Demons Behind Your Lips
by Silent Ward
Summary: An exploration of the relationship between Marion Hawke and the Arishok. Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age, and some of the conversations present are transposed directly from the game.
1. Chapter 1

"Are you sure we want to go in there?" Hawke looked over at Isabella, raising her eyebrow at the pirate.

"What's the matter, Isabella? Surely you're not afraid of a few Qunari?"

"You don't know Qunari, do you Hawke?" Isabella frowned disapprovingly. "Help me out, Varric."

"She's right you know, Hawke?" the dwarf alerted. "They're not really… safe."

"I don't think there's much that that can be said about safety," Fenris admitted, looking between the other three. "We just chased down a whole nest of Tal-Vashoth, after all." The four of them stood outside the compound beneath the eyes of the one Qunari that kept guard before the compound. He very clearly considered their exchange to be a suspicious one, but it wasn't apparent what he thought. Hawke frowned and clicked her tongue. Having dealt with the Tal-Vashoth, why were they acting as though the tame Qunari living within Kirkwall were the more dangerous?

Perhaps there was a good reason for that, she supposed. She felt compelled to find Aveline and ask whether she had a suggestion, but she didn't want to hike all the way back up to Hightown just to ask a question. Adjusting herself a little, she pulled her hair out of the way and straightened her back.

"Let's just get this over with," she proposed, starting to head towards the large, iron gates. Fenris nodded, moving in step with her.

"Well if you're going to go talk with them, I'm going to go see to something personal," Isabella pointed out, jabbing her thumb in the direction of the seafront. "I've got a lead on someone selling a ship. Maybe I'll get lucky and find something I can afford."

"A dinghy, Rivaini?" Varric teased. Isabella rolled her eyes and darted off, and Hawke watched her go before progressing up the steps. The heat of the compound surrounded them and as they moved into the open space they each looked around they became aware of the sea of eyes looking down at them. Varric cleared his throat a little, dropping his eyes to the ground as they moved. "Feels like we're in a killing field," he commented beneath his breath, focusing his attention intently on his peripheral vision.

"That's because we are," Fenris confirmed, equally quietly. "We're outnumbered. A dozen to one, I'd reckon."

"Only if a fight breaks out," Hawke mused. "If we challenge them to a kissing contest I'll go grab Isabella and we'll clean house." She was trying to be confident, but she was perhaps the most concerned of all of them. A roiling sensation in the pit of her stomach refused to abate, and she just barely managed to keep her step as they moved toward the back of the compound. Before them stood an honour guard, and past them was a large, very obvious throne which looked out over the small domain. She could see the dwarf they'd met awaiting them. Javaris, who looked rather impatient as he messed with his beard.

"Ah, my right hand arrives!" he announced with great pleasure, and he turned to face one of the Qunari who regarded them with a narrow gaze. "Summon your Arishok - the bargain is done!"

"Arishok?" Hawke asked, glancing at the others briefly.

"You'll see," Fenris murmured. The Qunari at the top of the steps left without a word and Javaris turned to face Hawke.

"About time you showed. I've been here for hours," he commented snidely. Hawke looked down at him incredulously, feeling the desire to punt the dwarf, but before she could respond their attention was returned to the seat. She watched as a new figure emerged. A great, hulking beast unlike any other Qunari present. His mere footsteps drew her to feel a sense of dread, and he looked down across them with the same sort of disdain that she felt for Javaris. Immediately she felt compelled to be offended, but as he settled down she supposed it was no different to the stoic indifference the others met her with.

"Arishokost," Fenris alerted, stepping forward suddenly. Hawke jumped slightly and looked back at him, taking in a slow breath. "Maraas shokra. Anaan esaam Qun." Hawke looked at him for a moment, wondering curiously. Was that elvish?

"The Qun from an elf?" the arishok asked, and his voice was equally shocking to hear. It was deep and rolled like thunder, and Hawke's eyes fixed sharply upon the Qunari as he leaned in. "The madness of this… _place_." He didn't speak the last word so much as spat it as though expelling poison from his mouth.

"You have no idea," Varric murmured beneath his breath, inaudible to all but Hawke.

"Friend of yours?" Hawke asked Fenris carefully. She felt as though she was almost going to offend him by asking it, but he turned to her and shrugged.

"Friend of no one." She nodded gently. Did this count as Fenris' broodiness, or was this a Qunari thing? It didn't matter. Javaris stepped up with his shoulders squared back, regarding the Qunari with self-importance and entitlement.

"Yes, well, that said, I am here to report that your hated Tal-Vashoth were felled one and all. Right?" He looked to Hawke briefly, almost expecting an argument to come. Hawke felt a compulsion to lie just to make the dwarf look foolish, but he didn't give her the chance. "Yes, they were. So, I'm ready to open negotiations. For the explosive powder. As we agreed." The arishok shifted slightly in the way he sat, and in one word said more than Javaris had in the entire conversation.

"No." Hawke almost laughed but restrained herself, though her eyes danced with merriment as Javaris turned quickly to face her.

"He's not getting it. Make your chatty elf say something," he demanded, and Hawke crossed her arms at him slowly. She took in a slow breath, then simply looked over at Fenris and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Qunari do not abandon a debt," he alerted. "I humbly request clarification from the arishok."

"I have a growing lack of disgust for you," the arishok announced, and it took Hawke a moment to realize that it wasn't a thinly-veiled insult at all. It was… a compliment? Did Qunari understand that? Or was it an accident? "The dwarf imagined the deal for the gaatlok. He invented a task to prove his worth, when he has none." It was all spoken so… straight-facedly that Hawke couldn't help the small laugh that passed her lips, and she cleared her throat to try and conceal it.

"Then we have wrongly inserted ourselves in your affairs," Fenris announced, then casually asked "Would you have us kill this dwarf?" Hawke turned to look at him, taking in a sharp breath. Javaris was a little shit, but he didn't deserve to be killed.

"Wait. What now?" Javaris asked, mirroring Hawke's alarm.

"If you faced Tal-Vashoth, he is not worthy of dying to you. As he was not worthy of dying to them." The arishok gave a small nod to cement his point and Hawke relaxed a little, though she did try and step forward to direct the conversation a little more. Her hand clenched and she held it tightly, focusing her attention on the Qunari as he spoke directly to her. "But you…" he said, and she felt her breath hold for an instant. "... you keep good company. Let him live. And leave." She blinked and felt the compulsion to obey the order, but wasn't entirely certain whether the arishok meant for her to allow Javaris to leave, or whether he was dismissing everyone. A subtle whistle from her side alerted her to Varric, and the rubbing of his thumb against her finger reminded her.

"He…" she began, then cleared her throat loudly. Taking a deep breath, she reaffirmed herself. "He had big plans for your recipe. I was supposed to get a piece of that," she informed him. They needed to fund the Deep Roads expedition. She couldn't afford to give the Qunari her charity.

"Dwarf, did your imaginary bargain make promises on my behalf?" the arishok asked with an even deeper level of contempt, which Hawke had thought impossible. Javaris cleared his throat and stared down at the ground.

"I.. expected your wisdom to be more profitable," he admitted, and Hawke shook her head and pressed her palm up to her forehead. She felt like stepping forward and kicking the dwarf, but more than anything she felt compelled to just kick herself. Her hand drifted down a little further to press against her eye, but it quickly moved back to her side as the Qunari around them shifted suddenly. The warriors stood, handling their weapons, and she thought for a moment that she was going to watch one of them skewer Javaris for the insult. The arishok stood slowly, regarding the group before him and inhaling a breath into his barrel of a chest.

"Then you will pay, on my behalf," he issued.

"Sod it all, take your coin. Take whatever!" Javaris announced suddenly, turning his anger on Hawke as he threw whatever coin he had to the floor in fury. Hawke blinked and stepped back as the dwarf walked away, uttering insults regarding 'horn-headed oxmen' and 'mongrel dog lords' as he went. Hawke pursed her lips tightly, then knelt to pick up the coin he'd thrown to the ground in his rage.

"You will leave as well, human," the arishok informed her, and she looked up suddenly. "There's no more coin for you here." Hawke felt herself blush, looking down at the small scraps of metal she was digging out of the sand, and after gathering everything she could see she stood and regarded him silently. He was sitting once again, looking distantly and as though they were not even there. She clutched the handful of coin tightly and joined Varric and Fenris in turning her back on the Qunari, slowly walking away and resisting the urge to turn back and look as she went, refraining from running out while she could. Who did the Qunari think they were, anyway? They were so… stuck up. She took in a deep breath as she focused on the exit, glancing at Varric as he offered a hand out and pouring the money into his palm.

"Well that worked out better than I expected," he admitted, counting the money as he thumbed it into a purse. Hawke agreed mutely, tilting her head up to look at the sky briefly before it was overshadowed by the stone of the gatehouse. She smirked as she savoured the knowledge that she'd made it the entire way without looking back, and glanced over her shoulder to see whether the arishok had noticed. Somehow, across the vast distance of the courtyard she could feel his eyes on her, and she tensed her body at the sensation.

"Damn," she whispered, then gasped as she felt the floor disappear from beneath her. She stumbled a pace, feeling Fenris' hand on her arm to steady her as she almost dropped to the ground. Varric paused, looking back at her curiously as she gathered herself.

"Are you alright?" Fenris checked. Hawke brushed him off, taking her arm back with a slow breath.

"I'm fine," she breathed quietly. Varric shrugged and followed behind her as she stormed out the rest of the way. Fenris took a moment, then caught up quickly.

"Is something wrong?" the elf asked, looking at the dwarf when Hawke didn't respond. Varric chuckled and shook his head.

"Come to the Hanged Man tonight, Broody," he invited casually. "I'll buy you a drink. I'll be telling Rivaini this story, and clearly you'll want to hear it as well."

"But I was here," Fenris frowned, grumbling at the brooding beneath his breath.

"If you were, you wouldn't be asking me that question," Varric hummed. "Don't worry, I'll explain it so that you can understand. There are some subtleties of women that you probably didn't learn all that much in Tevinter."If that was the case you wouldn't have to ask the question," Varric pointed out sagely. "Don't worry. I'll explain it all so that you understand everything. There are subtleties that a delicate Tevinter flower such as yourself may have missed." He paused, then continued, unable to resist the crack. "Maybe I'll invite Daisy too. She'll probably be able to help you where you're a little confused."


	2. Chapter 2

Arishok watched the group leave slowly. They went slowly, purposelessly. They didn't even seem to know what their next move was, other than to just depart the compound and return to the docks of the plagued city. The sickness caused his mind to wretch, and he scratched against his skin in annoyance and irritation. The book. He was forever aware of his purpose, and forever denied it. The woman would be found. She must be. The longer they remained, the more they risked losing to the Tal-Vashoth. Ironically, the longer they remained, the more that flocked to the Qun. The viddathari. They served to reaffirm his faith in the Qun. There was nothing to reaffirm his faith in Kirkwall.

He smirked as the female human stumbled in her departure, hiding it slightly. Almost nothing, he supposed. Herself, and her companion, the elf. He appreciated those that acknowledged and respected the Qun and the Qunari.

"Interesting," he sighed, watching as the woman left. He didn't know her name. He knew what he needed to know. Bas-Saarebas. He felt unclean simply for hearing her speak, but she was Bas all the same. He had nothing to fear of the demons that hid within her words, and he looked back at Arvaarad to cement this thought. The other Qunari remained silent, but as his eyes traveled to Arishok they took on a sense of liveliness.

"Interesting?" he asked, curiously testing the word. "What?"

"The Bas."

"Some were," he agreed. "The dwarf was not."

"Which one?" Arishok checked. There were two. One was an annoyance. The other was intolerable.

"Whichever you choose," Arvaarad shrugged. "One did not know how to speak. One did not know how to be silent."

"At least both left," Arishok sighed thankfully. He couldn't take much more of either. "That elf…"

"Unexpected of a Bas," the other Qunari agreed. There was silent agreement from the others standing nearby. "And the human."

"The human…" Arishok fell silent for a moment, thinking back. "What do they call her?"

"It does not matter. She is Saarebas."

"It matters to them," Arishok explained.

"But why must it matter to you?" Arvaarad asked fiercely, stepping forward to look directly at Arishok. Arishok stood to meet him, looking down at the smaller Qunari intently.

"It matters because we can learn from those outside the Qun who give themselves their names," Arishok detailed. "They do not associate by purpose. They associate by what they wish to be. You can learn much about men who choose to be guards, just as you can from those that choose to be servants."

"You already know what lies in those that are Saarebas," Arvaarad frowned. "They do not choose. They are. They are the bee because they know nothing but how to be as such. They can never change that."

"But they think they can," Arishok noted firmly. "Just as they think they can change the world, they think they can change themselves. I care not for the change, but for the reasons behind the will."

"You tread a dangerous path," the other Qunari warned. "The only will that matters is the will of the Qun. What can personal want accomplish? Suppose there was one that willed to be Arishok, should it be given?"

"One who would will to be as such is unworthy of that exact role," Arishok informed him. "The Qun does not submit to the wants of those within. It is those without that submit to the Qun. I have not forgotten this."

"Just as you should not forget the danger of the words of the Saarebas," Arvaarad clarified. "Even one from such a Bas."

"I am not so careless as to wander blindly, Arvaarad," he clarified quietly. "If you suspect the influence of a demon then you must act. If not, then leave me be. We have more to concern ourselves with than whether the petulant parasites of this rotting carcass can corrupt me."

"If not you, Arishok, then who?" Arvaarad asked sincerely. Arishok paused and shook his head slowly, stepping away from the seat overlooking the courtyard and towards the rear where the majority of his people gathered.

"I still want the name," he reminded the other Qunari, and Arvaarad silently acquiesced. Emerging into a different room, he looked among the Qunari standing nearby and with a nod they began to assemble the central table. Maps which had been freely given by the residents and government of Kirkwall were spread out across the tables, arranged into a depiction of the city and the surrounding area. Hand-drawn sketches added to the detail, and annotations depicting guard patterns were set alongside it. Information readily given to the viddathari by the guards themselves. It was as though the city _wanted_ them to know.

She was out there, somewhere. The saarebas. Perhaps by now she and her companions had decided where it was she was supposed to turn, and had finally made use of themselves. His eyes and attention drifted briefly, then shot back into focus as he set his mind to the matter at hand.

"No news, Arishok," one of his Sten announced.

"The search must be successful or it cannot end," he responded, tiredly searching from one paper street to the next. Somewhere, hidden among these pages, the relic was too. His hand clenched as his stare became a glare, and then it fell away again with a series of slow, steady blinks.


	3. Chapter 3

Hawke tried to avoid the looks as she moved through the streets, catching a few glances in her direction from the people in the streets. She was not in much of a mood to talk to anyone, and of course practically everyone wanted to stop her. Even Gamlen, for some reason. She didn't know where he was going, but she suspected he was on his way to the Blooming Rose. It seemed like the only reason he even left the house. "Let's not mention this to your mother," he suggested the last time she'd caught him in there. If being around the Arishok had taught her anything, it was to never hold up to some agreement that had been made on her behalf.

"Aw, hell… I think Bianca's got a scratch," Varric frowned, inspecting his crossbow as they walked.

"Walnut," Aveline said simply. The dwarf looked over at her as though she'd spoken in demonic. She seemed to recognize it and cleared her throat. "Rub a walnut against the wood. It'll conceal the scratches."

"Bianca wears her scratches with pride," Varric announced, but his voice still bore a hint of concern.

"Adds to the narrative, does it?" Anders mused.

"Adding to the narrative?" Varric gasped. "Blondie, I'd never embellish a story!"

"If I ever get arrested for everything we do, I don't want Varric speaking in my defense," Aveline informed them all seriously.

"If I get arrested, I _do_ want Varric to," Anders countered. "I'd get arrested for murder and leave with medals, commendations and titles." Aveline huffed, and rolled her shoulder with a frown. Anders looked at her, then frowned. "I'll have a look at your shoulder when we get a moment, Aveline. There's not much I can do like this."

"It'll be fine. It just needs a rest," she dismissed.

"And will you rest it if I leave it?" Anders checked. Aveline didn't answer, gesturing ahead.

"We're here," she nodded, spotting the Qunari outside speaking with a pair of sailors. He seemed to see them coming and gestured for the two men to leave, and as the group arrived he crossed his arms and looked down across them. He very clearly considered their weapons, before shifting his head to beckon them in.

"Looks like we're expected," Hawke murmured nervously.

"Maybe," Varric shrugged. "I wouldn't put it past them. Would be nice to have Broody here to smooth things over." Hawke nodded, but it was much too late to go back now. She stepped in with the others, seeing the Arishok already in the seat across the compound with his warriors flanking him on each side. She turned to look at Varric and Anders and held her arms out briefly.

"How do I look?" she hissed quietly.

"What?" Anders asked, and he and Varric recoiled slightly.

"Like a moonless night," Varric answered in an attempt at being helpful.

"Yes, that," Anders nodded, then withdrew his opinion with a confused look in the dwarf's direction. "What? No. You look fine, Hawke." She narrowed her eyes at the two of them, and he cleared his throat. "Better than fine."

"The Qunari don't care how you look, Hawke," Aveline commented, gesturing at the Arishok. "I wouldn't keep them waiting though."

"That's probably the best advice you're going to get, in all honesty," Anders admitted. Hawke looked herself over with a small frown and dropped her arms with a sigh, turning back to approach the Qunari at the top of the steps. The Arishok seemed to acknowledge her approach, shifting in his seat as she stood before him.

"We have little to discuss, human. For now, I would think on the fate of this city," he said in immediate dismissal. She didn't move and crossed her arms, then softened as she recalled what it was she was here to speak about.

"I've had confrontations with others in your command," she admitted. Her eyes were not on him, but instead on his hands as she anticipated them reaching for a weapon, or the javelin-wielding warriors around him. He didn't respond. He didn't give any kind of reaction at all, and she wondered for a moment whether he'd even heard her. "Did-"

"There have been a number of incidents, but you must mean Arvaarad, found dead after tracking Saarebas," he suggested. He spoke as though they were talking about the weather. It lingered for a moment, then dropped to look at the floor. "I thought nothing could threaten Arvaarad," he said, much quieter. Hawke paused and wondered whether she should just leave.

"You… are not angry?" she asked, not sure what to expect.

"A mage is dead. That is what matters. The rest is… impressive." Something about the way he spoke the word made her wonder whether it was the one he truly wanted. Of course, she didn't think that he'd hold back on account of her feelings, but then what did he want to say? He straightened up a little and fixed his eyes on her fully. "But do not repeat it." She shook her head slightly, then caught herself and blinked it away.

"I believe a member of the Chantry intended it to happen," she volunteered quickly. She took in a shaky breath and wondered why it was she admitted such a thing. What could be gained? Perhaps… Perhaps his trust? He deserved the truth, at least. Or her suspicions as to what was truth…

"Friend and enemy blend together in this sea of filth," the Arishok stated, leaning forward to regard her seriously. Did he emphasize a word there? She wasn't sure. Had he emphasized friend? Enemy? Filth? For some reason she suspected he emphasized blend, or sea, and she slumped slightly. "I can barely discern one group from another." He reclined and Hawke wondered for a moment whether he was implying everyone in Kirkwall looked the same. "But…" he qualified with a long sigh, "since this clearly means something to you, I acknowledge the risk taken." He seemed to linger on the thought and Hawke nodded.

"Saarebas chose death over leaving the Qun," she offered in the hopes that she might give him some sense of closure.

"That is good to hear," the Arishok said distantly.

"That is all you have to say?" Hawke asked, frowning. Wasn't that a significant thing? A redeeming quality?

"I will not insult Saarebas with the suggestion that making the right choice was difficult. I expect as much from every Qunari," he answered simply. He sighed as he regarded her, his forehead creasing as a thought passed through his mind. "I doubt Saarebas earned a greater honor in his life than my reaction now." He leaned back further and his eyes turned from her, and she clearly had nothing else of worth for him.

"Farewell, Arishok," she said, wondering whether she would prompt anything else. The Arishok simply leaned down over his knee and blinked lazily in her direction.

"Panahedan, human," he responded, and Hawke considered the word but didn't recognize it. She looked at Varric and saw that he seemed rather eager to go, and with a nod she turned to join him in leaving, glancing back at the Arishok as she went. His sharp gaze followed her every step and she watched him for a few moments before sighing and turning away again.

"We should probably go and see Bartrand, Hawke," Varric offered, patting the coin purse at his side. "I think we've got enough for the expedition."

"You should probably wrap up your business here before you go," Anders proposed. "The Deep Roads are long and you can get lost in there for weeks." Hawke nodded, then looked at him.

"You're not coming with us?" she frowned. Really? She was sure he'd come. He was the only one without any real experience.

"Daisy's going to miss you, Blondie," Varric tempted. "They're going to want a big, strong man there for them."

"Isn't Carver going?"

"I'm not sure," Hawke shrugged, then sighed. "Varric? Do you know much Qunlat? What… What does 'panahedan' mean?"

"It means goodbye, I think," Varric shrugged.

"Just goodbye?" Hawke frowned. "Not… something else?"

"Just goodbye," Varric reiterated, looking up at her curiously. "Why?"

"Oh, no reason…"


	4. Chapter 4

"Arvaarad is dead," Arishok announced to the group as he emerged in the back room. The Qunari around him understood. They'd heard already, but he wasn't through and he uttered a throaty, disagreeable sound. "The Bas-Saarebas killed him."

"What is to be done?" Karasten asked. Arishok looked to him, thinking for a moment.

"Nothing," he answered at last. Karasten seemed to struggle with the thought for a moment, then accepted it with a nod. "I want the Bas' name." Arishok's eyes rested on the other Qunari as he spoke, and he took in deep breath. "The name they give themselves."

"We still have no information," Karasten admitted. "The viddithari are unreliable, and slow. In this city they move as though their feet stick to the ground."

"Then we need more," he frowned, growling slightly in frustration. "The Bas-Saarebas must be known to someone. Her allies will not betray her to us willingly, but others might without a second thought."

"We shall find the name, Arishok," Karasten promised. He saluted and stepped away and Arishok looked down over the maps of the city as they grew to be more and more elaborate as information came in. He thought for a moment, considering each disgusting, puerile area. A figure stepped up close to him and he ignored it for a moment.

"Arvaarad," he sighed, straightening slowly. "You should be watching the Saarebas."

"It is the consensus that since you are dealing with the Bas, I should be there to ensure you are not corrupted by their influence," Arvaarad explained. "After what happened, someone should be here."

"What happened was planned," Arishok admitted. "The Bas-Saarebas' involvement was not. I had thought we had seen the last of her with the dwarf and his worthlessness. I was mistaken."

"Does she suspect?" Arvaarad checked. Arishok paused, thinking slowly as he pictured her in his mind. Her eyes had not betrayed any suspicion. A dazzling blue, they were busied with fear and alertness. Her body, slender and almost fragile, had always held a defensive posture. She smelled… He wasn't sure how she smelled. His thoughts paused for a moment, then he shook his head.

"She doesn't suspect," he asserted. "She would have no reason to."

"And their Chantry?" Arvaarad pushed.

"They believe it an unexpected boon on their behalf," he murmured, then gave a small sound of amusement. "Fools."

"What was learned of the Chantry from your experiment, Arishok?"

"They are sickly," came the morose response. "They draw in their people with their lies and promise them what they cannot give. This we knew. What we have found here proves the levels of their own deceit. Demons hide behind their eyes and they are blind to them. They swell with the fat of corrupted pestilence and do nothing to alleviate the suffering of those they proclaim to protect. Given the chance, they seize it for their own desires."

"Is that so?" Avaarad asked.

"The Bas-Saarebas claimed it as such," Arishok nodded. "She was used as bait. I do not suspect the Chantry knew what would happen. They expected us to kill her. She was correct, in part, but not for reasons she knew."

"Bait?" Arvaarad spat. "They sought to demonize our people, even as more turn to the Qun and recognize the futility of their own government."

"They are desperate fools," Arishok agreed. "Continue to educate the viddithari on what it is the Qun demands. Educate them on what transpired, and the depths of treachery that are reached with this. They must know what they can expect."

"They will learn," Arvaarad confirmed, stepping slightly closer and peering intently at Arishok. "The Bas-Saarebas. What did she say to you?"

"Nothing of consequence," Arishok responded, looking down at him. "She has not swayed my mind, Arvaarad."

"You are still committed to the Qun?"

"Unfalteringly." Arishok understood where the concern came from, but in this situation they did not have the luxury of suspecting one another. "That you ask such a question is troubling. You are truly concerned that she is more dangerous than she appears."

"She is Bas-Saarebas, but Saarebas nonetheless."

"She knows little of the Qun," Arishok countered. "She will not shake my belief with baseless complaints and the arguments befitting a child."

"It would be best if that were so," Arvaarad agreed. "We cannot afford to lose our Arishok as we have so many others." Arishok grumbled slightly and nodded, pushing his hand against his skin slowly. With a long breath he turned his attention to the table, studying the maps.

"These streets are well-designed," he frowned. "They do not make it easy to move. Our focus should be on smaller groups to take key structures."

"You anticipate conflict coming from this?" Arvaarad asked.

"This city fills my nostrils with its stink and its Chantry seeks to destroy us through defamation. If the Book of Koslun is not recovered we must look to securing this place. Perhaps some redemption in the eyes of the Qun can be attained if we establish a foothold. At the very least we shall be able to intensify the search."

"We shall find the book, Arishok. Have faith."

"I would prefer to have the book."


	5. Chapter 5

"You can't honestly tell me you're going there," Varric grumbled, looking over to Hawke as they walked. "First day after getting back, and you're going there instead of getting your family all set up?"

"Yes," she sighed, looking over at him. "I'm not asking you to go, Varric. You're welcome to wait for me in the Hanged Man."

"Are you crazy? You're not seriously asking me to let you go to that place by yourself are you? I went into the Deep Roads with you, Hawke. I'm not letting you go somewhere _dangerous_ too." He raised an eyebrow at her, frowning at her a little. "You sure you're okay with your brother joining the templars? They're just as crazy as the mages."

"Carver's got a good head on his shoulders," she argued.

"Shouldn't you be helping your mother now that she's got the move to the estate going on?" he asked, looking at her with concern. "Maybe she'd like the assistance in working with the viscount in setting yourself up."

"You have a lot of ears in Kirkwall, don't you Varric?" Hawke frowned.

"I certainly pay enough for them," he admitted.

"Is there a reason you're trying to stop me from meeting with the Qunari?" she asked suspiciously.

"Well, let's see," he breathed. "We met one group. They tried to kill us. Then we spoke with their leader and if our elven friend hadn't stepped in, I'm sure they'd be quite the same. Then we meet with another group. They kill their own guy, then try to kill us. Then we speak with their leader _again_ , and he threatens to kill us if we do it again." He shook his head slowly, staring directly ahead. "I'm not entirely sure I'm fond of them, all things considered."

"That's true, but… I'm not saying I'm necessarily looking forward to it either," she admitted. She swallowed, then almost immediately felt an urge to correct the statement. She was looking forward to it, if only for the sake of seeing whether she was remembered. Was the arishok still here?

"You're a bad liar, Hawke," Varric sighed. "Best not come to the Hanged Man too often. Your family has money now. Don't want to be losing it all like your uncle did. He's even worse than you are."

"I'll not play you for money, Varric, because your brother struggled to fund an expedition and without me you'll end up in a poorhouse, curling up around Bianca every night," Hawke countered.

"Then you'll have to take over the payments for Daisy," he warned. "Bribes, rent, food, twine, academia, clothes… All very expensive, you see."

"You bribe Merrill?" she asked in surprised.

"I didn't say that," he said, shaking his head.

"Then what? And academia?" Hawke had no idea Merrill was even doing all of this sort of thing.

"Bribes… for the Coterie," he shrugged. "Ones that stop her having her dainty little neck cut when she wanders Darktown. And, I mean, she's a smart girl, Hawke. She'll need tuition one day. Education's expensive nowadays…"

"You'd make a good father, you know, Varric?" Hawke smiled. "If you and Bianca can work that out, you'll have a lots of beautiful, hairy-chested slingshots together." He gave a small laugh and joined her as she came to a stop, pausing at the top of the steps leading down to the docks. She looked over at the dwarf and raised an eyebrow. "So what'll it be? Salty sea air, or drinks in the tavern?"

"If I let you go there alone, there's every chance that you'll just never return. Someone's got to have your back." He took a step and led the way in descending, followed close behind by Hawke. A small crowd was visible at the base of the the steps outside the compound, but it wasn't apparent whether they were gathered as an audience or as a mob. There was no shouting, and nothing being thrown. As they moved through them it was apparent that they were waiting for someone, and the Qunari at the gates observed the pair as they approached.

"The Bas-Saarebas," he recognized without a flicker of emotion. "The Arishok would speak with you. He is preoccupied, however." His attention glanced past Hawke and Varric at the crowd, and he slowly looked back to them. "Go inside and make your presence known."

"I'll do that," she nodded, looking to the guard for a moment before moving up the steps and past him. Ahead, somewhere deep in the courtyard, she could see the Arishok talking to someone. As she stepped in and approached she caught what seemed to be the tail end of the conversation. The Arishok looked up and fell silent as he spotted her, and with a sudden motion stood, silencing the man before him.

"You have spoken enough," he said dismissively, gesturing for the man to leave. The man, clearly not wealthy by any measure, clearly seemed surprised by the demand and looked around in surprise. As his eyes fell upon Hawke he cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, serrah, but I believe you're intruding upon my meeting," he frowned, attempting to get her to leave for the time being.

"Your belief is flawed," the Arishok announced with an unapologetic tone. "It is you who is intruding, on her meeting with me." He narrowed his eyes at the man and the intent was very much felt.

"Well then, I suppose that's that, then, isn't it?" he asked with a huff, gathering his things and turning to march away with very distinct glower in Hawke's direction. He slowed slightly and Varric shook his head, gesturing on without a word. Hawke waited until the scraping sounds of footsteps against stone and sand dissipated into the distance before coming forward slowly, regarding the figure before her as he sank back into his seat.

"You have returned, finally," he noted.

"I…" Hawke began, then paused for a moment. "How do you know?"

"I have eyes and ears. They look and listen far. I know you left, but that you must also return. It was simply a matter of when." He looked at her, and leaned forwards slightly. "You are late."

"According to who?" Hawke demanded immediately, setting her scowl directly in the Qunari's direction.

"According to when you were expected," the Arishok answered simply.

"And you expected me?" she asked wonderingly.

"You left with the dwarf's expedition. They returned without you," he pointed out. She thought for a moment, then suddenly realized how obvious that might have been and sighed.

"Well, yes," she admitted quietly.

"Need I ask what happened?" he checked, leaning forward slightly as though peering into her for some hidden emotion.

"I don't know. Need you?" she returned quickly.

"My expectation involves treachery and deceit found common in dwarves," he shrugged, seemingly oblivious to Varric's presence. Hawke looked to the dwarf at her side quickly, expecting to see him infuriated at the suggestion, but he looked at her with a sense of calm.

"No comment?" she whispered.

"Why would I?" Varric shrugged. "He's not wrong." She didn't feel the impulse to argue and simply dropped the topic without any intent of revisiting it.

"You just assume that we were betrayed?" she directed to the Arishok.

"I have had many questions answered to me," he confirmed. "What is the Blight? What are the Darkspawn? What is the human? These unknowns have been made known to me. I knew of your departure and similarly of your intents. You would not be what I know of you if you were hampered by the mere inconvenience of darkspawn and dwarves."

"What you _know_ of me?" she asked with an accompanying affronted look. "What do you know of me, Arishok?"

"You are neither subtle nor unknown. To the people in Hightown, Lowtown, Darktown. You are responsible for a great many deaths that the guards sworn to protect this city are either incapable or unwilling to address. You show great talent where others are incapable of even lifting a finger." The words came as fast and bluntly as facts, but all the same Hawke couldn't help but feel a small burning sensation somewhere in her cheeks as she absorbed the compliments.

"You know of all that, do you?" she asked, trying to keep her tone even.

"If I didn't know it, I wouldn't say that you were," the Arishok said simply, giving her a resolute nod. "I do not make a habit of not knowing, or wasting words. We Qunari waste nothing."

"I see," Hawke nodded. Did that make the compliment all the more important? Were Qunari prone to giving compliments if they considered even their words valuable?

"No, you do not," the Arishok refuted. "But some day you might." Hawke regarded him curiously but he reclined backwards and gave a great sigh. "It is good you came. Know that I have my eyes on you." With a small gesture of the hand she felt herself dismissed and she cleared her throat.

"Panahedan, Arishok," she offered, giving a small bow. She turned to go, but she heard him as he rose suddenly and stopped when he spoke.

"Wait," he demanded, and she did, turning to look at him slowly. His features were mute for a moment, and he inhaled a deep breath before carefully taking his seat once more. He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, his eyes resting upon her intently. Her eyes watched his, staring deeply into his eyes until he blinked suddenly and straightened slightly. "We may speak at another time," he issued, and she gave a wordless nod before fixating her attention back on the gate and continuing to walk.

"Intense," Varric murmured, clearly still disapproving.

"I think it went went rather well," Hawke countered.

"I didn't say it didn't," Varric pointed out, giving her a sideways glance. His silence was unnerving and she switched her attention to him suspiciously.

"What are you thinking, Varric?" she wondered.

"Come by the Hanged Man tonight and sate your curiosity," he offered, saying nothing else on the matter. "I'm sure our mutual corsair friend will be interested to hear all about it."


	6. Chapter 6

"The Bas-Saarebas has been found," Karasten informed him as Arishok returned into the rear room of the compound. He gestured at a point on a map. One that was now heavily marked and annotated with as many as a dozen pieces of paper attached by a pin. Arishok looked quickly, approaching the table and draining a small amount of water from a cup. His thirst was not yet sated, but he was prepared for something else to be.

"The name?" he asked.

"Hawke," Karasten relayed quickly.

"She adopts the name of a bird?" Arishok frowned, looking at the paper as he was offered it. "Marian Hawke. How was this found?"

"The dwarf on her expedition was willing to give us the information for a price," he answered. "She has a brother. He is with the Basvaarad. Her mother is a newly-recognized noble in this city. Her family supposedly is afforded considerable ancient claim."

"Claim?" Arishok repeated, looking to the other Qunari. "What claim?"

"Her mother is an Amell," came another voice. A small human frame approached the group, cautiously stepping between them. His brown hair and bright blue eyes were a stark contrast to most others present, and Arishok turned to regard him silently. The viscount's son did not flinch away and met the look respectfully. "Arishok. It is good to see you."

"You know of this family?" Arishok asked.

"I have had some interactions before, yes, Arishok," Saemus nodded. "When I was speaking with Ashaad, she is the one that saved me from the mercenaries. She is known as Hawke. Her mother is Leandra Amell. Her family was well-established in this city, and then they disappeared… They returned during the Blight in Ferelden. Their name has been reinstated and they're currently being moved back into their old estate." He gave a small smile, looking to the Arishok. "I… had a quiet word with my father. I felt that perhaps a friend of the Qun _and_ of the city deserved a word in their favour."

"You had the name reinstated because you felt they deserved it?" Arishok frowned.

"I… My father was not inclined to, at first," Saemus explained. "Another noble in the city, breathing down his neck. He was partial to refusal. I asked him to reconsider and convinced him otherwise. Do not think of it as favouritism, Arishok. Think of it as the establishment of justice where there would have been none."

"A rare gift in a place such as this," Arishok noted, silently appreciating the deviation from the sickening norm of Kirkwall. "It is appreciated in ways you may never know or be thanked for."

"I did not do it for the accolades, Arishok. I hope to make this city better than it is," Saemus answered, but he smiled, quite clearly pleased that his actions had been met with approval.

"Hawke. Amell," Arishok said, testing each name. "So now we know. Her brother works with those that seek to chain the very thing she is. There is dissent. Even… resentment." He took in a breath and shook his head at the ridiculousness. "Interesting."

"Interesting?" Karasten checked.

"Unexpected answers to my question," Arishok nodded. "I must think on this further."

"I have a… request of you, Arishok, if you have a moment," Saemus admitted quickly, before the Qunari could leave. "I appreciate that you have permitted me to move amongst the Qunari, but I feel that a greater understanding is needed. I would ask your permission to learn more of the Qun." Arishok looked down at the boy, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Such an undertaking is difficult. A commitment not to be taken lightly. Do you understand this?" He was surprised nonetheless. It was not uncommon for someone to wish to join the viddithari, but an honest interest in the Qun was a rare thing in the bas. After a moment Saemus nodded in response and Arishok looked to the other Qunari for any sign of disapproval. "Very well. You will learn from the few that can teach. The lessons would traditionally come from the Tamassran. Until we are permitted to return to the Qun, you shall have what can be provided."

"I appreciate what you can give, Arishok," Saemus said as mutely as he could, though he clearly quaked with excitement.

"Arishok, I might have a word," requested another. Arishok paused and looked over at Arvaarad, understanding what might be said and approaching quickly.

"Arvaarad."

"You have your answers regarding the Bas-Saarebas," Arvaarad noted.

"Hawke," Arishok confirmed. "That is what she calls herself."

"Then your curiosity is satisfied?" Arvaarad checked, raising an eyebrow intently. He studied the Arishok's form quickly, looking for any sign of proof that he might be corrupted.

"It is," Arishok confirmed quietly. "And my commitment to the Qun is as strong as it ever has been. It has never wavered."


	7. Chapter 7

Her home. Was that what she was supposed to call it? It felt so strange. First Lothering, then Gamlen's house. How could those places have been more of a home than this place? She took a moment to look around the foreign room. On one side a roaring fireplace, and on the other a doorway into the study. A staircase led up to her room, as well as her mother's. Hawke couldn't help but feel guilty. It was a room for each of them and it was wonderful, but if Carver hadn't decided to join the templars she didn't know where he'd be saying. She felt a little old to be sharing a room with her brother, after all.

It was empty. Dark, and late. Her mother was still out speaking with Gamlen. She hoped that they were being looked after, but suspected that her uncle was being difficult. She doubted that it was otherwise. Gamlen didn't understand how to be anything but what he was. She kicked off her shoes by the door and stepped in, feeling the heat from the dying fire. Reaching over for some of the firewood, she threw a pair of logs on and watched as the flames began to slowly spread.

"I need to hire someone to look after this place," she sighed, looking from the ash on the floor to the piles of possessions that had yet to be really sorted or put away. The only place she'd even started was in the bedroom, and other than the sheet and a few pillows and blankets, it wasn't anything special. She slowly scaled the stairs and as she came to the top of the balcony looking out over the room below, breathing in the change. So much change. She didn't know where to even begin with it all. She wanted to sleep for a week, and yet the moment she lay down she was up again. Darkspawn. Just like the first few weeks after arriving in Kirkwall, chased by the dark, malicious shapes with their bloodied mouths.

She turned back, passing the Amell family crest they'd found in the basement and entering her room. She closed the door behind her and leaned back against it, looking across the barren room. The only other occupant was the bed on the other side. She sighed and lethargically pulled her hands up to pull the buttons of her shirt loose, popping them loose and shedding herself of her shirt quickly. The effect was almost immediate as her skin was exposed to the air, and she quickly rid herself of the rest of her restrictive garments. She wasn't subjected to the cold for long, rushing for the warmth of the bed and wrapping herself in the blankets as she thought on about the day.

Her head barely touched the pillows when she heard it. A rustling sound. A rummaging sound? She wasn't sure and swung back up, her eyes fixed on the door ahead. There was silence for a moment and she wondered whether she'd imagined it, but a door closed loudly and she pulled herself out of bed. A robe hung from the wall nearby and she slung it on, creeping quickly towards the door and cracking it open slightly.

"Mother?" she asked, glancing back and forth at the small amount of the room outside that she could see. There was no response. The crackling of the fire was distant, and she cleared her throat before speaking again, louder this time. "Mother?" Still nothing. She frowned, pushing the door open further. Maybe she was in the study? It was impossible to tell how well sound traveled in this room, and she stepped out into the open area, closing the door behind her and looking out over the balcony carefully. There was nothing stirring down there, and she looked from side to side suspiciously. She called out again, but silence answered her a third time.

Maybe it was nothing. She didn't hear anything now, and there was no sign of anything being disturbed. She brushed her hand through her hair slightly, shaking her head and trying to dismiss her thoughts. She was tired. All of this ridiculousness in Kirkwall as getting to her. She just needed to… relax. A feeling of exhaustion filled her and she pushed her hands against her eyes, feeling the impulse to just… let out a cry, and give up, but she knew that wasn't an option. Tomorrow she would be back out there, with Varric, and Aveline, and everyone else, trying to fix all the wrongs that had been inflicted upon the people of the city. Coterie. Mage. Templar. Whatever it was, she'd find the strength to fix it somewhere. Somehow. She tightened her hands into fists and took in an invigorating breath, but it didn't fill her with energy. She was exhausted, and turned back to her room.

She moved quickly back, stepping through the open door and quickly discarding her robe, throwing it over the edge of her bed with a sigh. She was about to turn and close the door and get back to bed when something occurred to her, and she paused in fright. Hadn't she… closed the door? Her eyes turned slowly, but she heard the door slam closed long before they looked. The room seemed darker, and she took in a shaky breath.

"Who…? Who's there?" There was no answer. Just large, heavy steps that approached her. She spun suddenly and her immediate suspicion was confirmed. The massive frame of the Arishok stared down at her, regarding her coldly. She staggered backwards and he followed.

"You," he breathed, his breath passing over her like a morning fog.

"What are you doing here? Get out!" she demanded, wishing she had something to throw at him. In her naked state she could barely think, and a hand reached back to grasp for her robe, but before she could take it she felt herself being seized by the other arm and dragged back. She fought, beating her fist against his thick, scaly skin, and in an instant had taken hold of her with his other hand, grabbing her at the neck.

A sliver of fear pulsed down her spine and she gripped his hand as it latched onto her throat, trying to pull herself loose to no avail. With a sudden thud she felt herself hit the wall and he was there, looming over her. Slowly her feet lost their contact with the ground and they dangled, her eyes at the same level as the Arishok's as he leaned in to watch her. She lashed out with a leg, but she struck hard muscle and didn't even seem to make a dent in him. She tried again, but as he stood there, unafflicted, and yet no longer progressing, she fell still. Her legs simply swayed, trying to find some way of reaching the ground, and her hands persisted in trying to pull herself up to avoid choking.

"You spoke Qunlat to me, Hawke," he addressed. "Do you know what that means?"

"Fenris did too!" she argued, gasping a little as his voice seemed to reverberate through her entire body. "Why aren't you going after him?"

"The elf is inconsequential," the Arishok said simply. "You are something very different."

"Why are you here?" she whispered, fearing the answer. What was this? An attack? A warning? Was he here to try and force her to accept the Qun? Had she insulted him, or killed Qunari that he considered too valuable to lose? She didn't know, and though she felt the magic at her fingertips, she felt no impulse to use it. There was something in his eyes that told her that she… deserved what he promised.

"The Qun demands that I come here," he answered. "You have taunted me, Hawke."

"Taunted you?" she frowned. "I have only the utmost respect for you!"

"Your body," he breathed, a low, mountainous growl. She froze, trying to press back into the wall, and attempting to cover her nakedness "You arrive in the compound, and your body is there. It sways. It saunters. You kneel before me, and you turn your back to me, and I am left only able to observe as you are within reach, and yet so far from me."

"I… I was not intending on causing such a reaction, Arishok," she stammered. "Please, forgive me if I… offended."

"You would do well not to offend me, Hawke." The reference to her name startled her, and he leaned in a little closer. "I simply intend to make these facts known to you."

"And you needed to be in my bedroom to make them known to me?" she asked, trying to laugh but finding it hard. His free hand drifted forwards and she almost released a sound as he touched her stomach with his fingertips.

"A taunt to an Arishok is a serious matter," he murmured. She felt her skin tighten and her breath stolen away as his small touch persisted, and as it moved she felt paralyzed by the sensation of it stroking against her. His fingers descended, sliding to the side, and he stepped slightly closer as his hand slid down the side of her leg. It twitched, and she felt for a moment that she saw his eyes flash at the small movement.

"Please, let me go, Arishok," she asked, looking to him pleadingly.

"You are an incredible woman, Hawke," he said, and she felt no less of a shock than the first time he said her name. "Strong. Courageous. Beautiful. These are all traits admired in the Qun. I am drawn to you." He leaned forward slightly, his mouth inches from her skin as he inhaled slowly, and a coldness struck her skin as he did so. When he spoke again, his voice was soft and quiet. "I would have you, if you would permit it."

"Permit it?" she asked. He couldn't honestly be asking her that, could he? "Permit what? For you to run off with me into the hills?"

"Perhaps, once I am free to depart," he suggested. "Or for the night." The words caused her to swallow hard and a thousand thoughts seemed to swarm about her head, all impossible to read as a haze of dizziness clouded them. Her arms and legs trembled, simultaneously hot from a blush and cold from the air, and the leg beneath his fingertips seemed to move the most, quaking beneath his warm, strong hand.

"I… I don't know," she answered quietly, feeling trapped between two impossible decisions. He was asking her to choose something she couldn't possible choose. Or… was he? As his hand stroked back up she felt a tenseness in her stomach. The feeling of something rolling about in there, and whatever else she was going to say was lost in a breathy exhale and a hitched whimper.

"Let me convince you," he suggested. She didn't have the time or even the presence of mind to resist, feeling the shift of muscle and grip as he leaned forwards. His mouth was upon hers in an instant, pushing her back against the wall. She fought for a moment, but it only seemed to make his lips move harder, and as she realized what was happening her body gave way and melted like butter. Her hands hung limply from his arm, her eyes fluttering shut as he worked her over and over with his lips, and her fingers trembled as one thrilling rush was followed by another.

The hand against her leg twitched and she unwittingly uttered a small noise of pleasure. A groan which passed into the kiss, and as he receded she felt herself following for a few inches before realizing that he was looking at her. Her eyes opened slowly, barely daring to look at him as the rushing rivers of want and desire ran through her body. He was here, in her home, demanding her to give herself to him, and she could think of no reason to deny him. Her fingers slowly pushed their way along his arms, and as she brought her breathing back under control she found the strength and control needed to look at him fully.

"Ask me again, Arishok," she whispered.

"Hawke," he returned, leaning forwards a little. "Will you give yourself to me tonight?"

"On one condition."

"Name it."

"If I give myself to you tonight, don't let me go until the night is over." His lips surged into her and seized her mouth again, assaulting her and conquering her body in a single, simple motion. She gasped and moaned back into his kisses, but they were brief. It was all the answer she needed, and she nodded slowly as she tried to regain her breath. "Yes," she answered, her mouth leaning forwards, yearning for his. "Yes! Damn it, Arishok, just take me. Make me yours." His mouth returned to her and she snatched her hands up, grabbing whatever she could. One found a horn, the other his hair, and each held on tightly as she returned the intensity of his passion with her own. She didn't hold back, and as his hand ascended past her stomach she returned every sensation. She repaid her desire, her cravings, and it was not until the fingers brushed across her breast that she threw her head backwards and gasped.

He didn't miss a beat. His fingers strummed across the delicate, sensitive flesh at her chest like a harp, and his mouth descended upon what exposed neck she presented, pushing her back into the wall as she found her words lost to carnal moans and lecherous groans. Her hands tightened further, pulling him against her, willing him on. She wanted more, and her legs continued to hang, rubbing back and forth against one another as her hips twisted and ached for attention. Each touch of his fingers felt as though it was amplified a thousand times and shot through her body like a lightning bolt, setting her on fire.

"More," she whispered, her eyes falling closed again as she abandoned herself to him, offering herself and refusing to fight. His fingers hesitated for a moment before beginning their long, slow descent, and she whined at first, instantly wanting the touches back. As he passed her stomach, however, that changed to very different sounds as he ventured very close, and yet not close enough. His hand drew down her thigh, then wrapped around her leg and very slowly pulled it up. He seized her by the ankle, drawing the leg higher and higher. She felt herself stretch, sure she was not built for this, but he all-too-easily seemed to bring her leg up and pinned it to the wall next to her head, and she looked over, feeling herself exposed and vulnerable before him. Her free leg tensed and moved slightly, and as his body moved in closer she felt almost a pain move through her as he did not immediately move against her.

Instead she felt herself subjected to the hot, hard mass that was pressed against her lower stomach, and she shuddered and shivered as she felt it press against her. She shifted her free leg, drawing it up and along his leg, and reached down with one hand slowly, even nervously. She waited for some indication from him, but his lips were busy continuing to work against her neck, though a moment later they switched over and slowly drew their way up the back of the leg he held pinned against the wall. She seized the breath and the moment, reaching down slightly further and felt him there suddenly, pressed into her hand. Her fingers wrapped around, trying to touch the thumb as she gauged his size, but he was too thick and she simply found herself squeezing him and inciting small sounds from him. She smirked and made soft sounds in response, running her fingers down and then back up, slowly and steadily.

It worked, or she at least felt it did. His mouth returned to hers, at least. She immersed herself into his touches, matching the rhythms of his lips with her hand, but all too soon the burning need overtook her and she knew she couldn't stand it another second without exploding. Her free leg lifted slightly and pressed itself open, inviting, and she guided him with her hand, lining him up with her and trying to urge him to move forwards. He did, and with the first thrust she felt herself lose control of her body for an instant as every muscle seemed to freeze and tense, and she uttered a noise she could neither remember nor recreate.

He filled her. He more than filled her, she felt, but it was hard to truly test that as her mind seemed suddenly filled with shimmering stars. She whispered her pleasured gasp, and as she did he withdrew, only to plunge back into her with the same intensity. She elicited another sound, and it seemed to drive him to penetrate her once more. Every time he seemed to swell within her more and more and she audibly made her astonishment known, and every time she did he thrust into her, pounding her against the wall. Her hands were behind his head once again, pulling him to her as she continued to utter her gratification, and her free leg wrapped around him as best it could, seeking to draw him even closer. She wondered whether the wall might give way beneath the sheer intensity of his thrusts, but realized she didn't care. If it did, he could throw her to the ground and have her there, and if the ground fell away she would climb atop him and do the work herself.

Faster and faster, his hips slammed against hers, his mouth swept across her skin, and he held her tightly as though afraid to let her go. She moaned and writhed, begged for more, whispered his name and called it out to anyone who might hear. The swirling sensation within her stomach slowly began to engulf her, obscuring her senses as she found herself lost in the haze of ecstasy, and she rode it out, or rather, allowed him to ride her out to it. She reached the edge with needy, desperate gasps and tears in her eyes, and fell over with a scream and the tightening of her entire body around him, and still he persisted, pressing into her with renewed vigour as she was overwhelmed and swept away, and as he ground to a stop she felt a warm liquid slowly descend the thigh of her now-limp leg.

"Oh, Arishok…" she sighed, tightening her arms around him. He was warm, and she nuzzled against his soft, velvety skin, stretching her legs and spreading across the floor with him. She opened her eyes, blinking softly as she found herself not against the wall, but laid out upon the floor of the house. The empty bedroom, lacking even the bed, was just barely illuminated, and there was no sign of anyone. The distant sound of the crackling fire was on the other side of the door, and she rolled onto her back as she struggled to come to terms with the dream. How could it have been a dream? How? That wasn't… It wasn't fair!

She allowed her hand to slip down beneath the blankets, curling between her legs as she felt the wetness there, and she squeezed her eyes closed, holding onto the memories and sensations of the dream as they tried to escape her, her fingers seeking to emulate him in every way she could.


	8. Chapter 8

She was up early the next morning. It wasn't that she didn't sleep well. Quite the opposite in fact, but her mind was ablaze with questions. The desire did not abate from the previous night. If anything the images seemed more vivid in the light of day, like a tinted window where its glory was only able to be appreciated as the sun struck it. She could practically see the Arishok. It was as though she could smell him. For long moments she struggled to reconcile it. A part of her wondered whether it hadn't been a dream. Had the Arishok really been there with her? It seemed impossible, but it felt so real. She looked to the wall where it had occurred, almost able to see and feel each touch, each stroke and each thrust.

She pulled herself together, throwing her blanket away and deciding to try and focus herself on something that would not have her throwing her head back in pleasure again. She needed a steady head, and she wasn't going to get it thinking back to something she only wished happened.

Or, something that she'd only dreamed. No, something that had only happened in a dream. She refused to believe or acknowledge the idea that this had all happened because she wanted it to. It was an accident. Some trick of her mind. Hunger or desperation or something. Something that had fooled her into wanting something she couldn't possibly want. She pushed away her blankets and pulled together her clothing, looking down at herself and sighing a little as she wondered at what she was wearing. Wasn't she a noble now? At least, she was the daughter of a noble. She'd returned from the Deep Roads with a fortune, and she was still wearing these rags?

She pulled her staff together and asserted herself, pulling on her boots and grabbing her staff as she marched through the house. She paused in the doorway, looking in the small mirror hanging in the entrance hall, and slapped herself twice. Was she awake? She wasn't going to walk out there and find herself naked and being grabbed by more Qunari, was she?

She felt a sting on her cheeks but nothing else. As she stepped out into the street she blinked at the sunlight, finding herself faced not with Qunari, but something equally as difficult.

"Hello Hawke," Isabella smiled. She was pressed between the two walls, having walked her way up almost to the top and settled comfortably with her legs stabilizing her a good few feet up. Hawke looked at her, raising an eyebrow at the corsair.

"Isabella," Hawke responded, trying to guess why she was here. Had she had a similar dream? Did Isabella know somehow? No… she was being paranoid. "Nice to see you, I think?"

"Once upon a time you were happy to see me," she sighed, dropping down to the ground with a scraping sound and landing lightly on the floor. "Have you found someone else? Someone who stirs your stomach better than I do?" Hawke's arm snatched up to her stomach, feeling for a moment that it was going to just fall out. She swallowed, feeling the ghost of a hand on her neck, and it took her a moment to find the words.

"I… No…" she said, but she couldn't even make herself believe it. She considered just leaving for a moment. Turning around and walking back inside and locking the door… and she might have if she didn't suspect Isabella of picking the lock, if she hadn't stolen and copied the key. Isabella's mouth turned up into a smile and she sauntered closer, very clearly locked in on something.

"Oh, come on, Hawke. I'd tell you if you asked," she smiled.

"I don't think that you would Isabella," Hawke admitted. "And even if you would, it's… not something I feel comfortable about."

"Then let me guess," Isabella proposed, clapping her hands excitedly. "Oh… it's a man?" Hawke refrained from responding, and Isabella continued. "Two men? _More_ than two men? No... An animal, then? Like a mabari?" Hawke pulled a face of disgust. "A woman? Or multiple women?"

"Why did you go to an animal before a woman?" Hawke asked with a sigh.

"Not a women, though?" Isabella checked. Hawke shook her head. "And not a mixture of any of those?" Another shake, and she puzzled for a moment. "Have you fallen in love with something inanimate?" she proposed. "A thick fruit, or a knobbly bedpost?"

"No, Isabella. Just… forget it," Hawke sighed, blushing and feeling ridiculous.

"Well you could just tell me," the other woman noted. "Well, let me think… Is it an elf, or a dwarf?" When there was no response to either of those she seemed rather reluctant to say anything else. "A Qunari?" she wondered, and Hawke averted her eyes. Isabella's eyes flashed, and she withdrew slightly.

"I said it's fine, Isabella. It's nothing."

"You're with a Qunari?" Isabella gasped.

"No! No…" Hawke sighed. "I just... " She didn't know what to say, and Isabella took a moment before realizing what was implied.

"Oh, I see," she smirked. "You just lay there and let the Qunari come to you, did you?" She gave a soft giggle, tilting her head back against the wall. "I've been there, Hawke. It's alright."

"No, it's not," Hawke frowned. "I… I was asleep. And it wasn't just a Qunari, Isabella."

"Wasn't just…" Isabella repeated, then inhaled sharply as her eyes widened. "Andraste's…" She stifled herself, sure that if she shouted the exhalation it would draw more than a little attention from the bustling Hightown. "Not the Arishok?"

"Shh!" Hawke hissed, waving for her to be quiet. "Yes, but it was just a stupid dream! It doesn't mean anything! It was just something that happened and I'm trying to forget it!"

"Oh, that's not going to work Hawke," Isabella frowned. "You can't just forget a night of ecstasy with the Arishok. You need to pursue this Hawke. Fix it. Get it out of your system."

"I'm not going to-"

"Hawke, trust me," Isabella pressed. "This is the best outcome for everyone! You just go in there, shaking your hips. All you need to do is get him curious about bedding you, and he'll take care of the rest."

"I'm not going to just walk in there and demand the Arishok take me back and ravage me," she informed her in absolute refusal. "What's wrong with you?"

"What? There's nothing wrong with me, Hawke. I mean… did you enjoy it?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Hawke took in a breath, then shook her head and refused to answer it. "No?" Isabella asked doubtfully.

"Of course I did," she whispered quickly. "But really, Isabella, you're out of your mind if you think that's what I'm going to do."


	9. Chapter 9

"More have gone missing," Sten warned. "Qunari. Viddithari. It doesn't seem to matter."

"It matters," Arishok growled, uttering a thunderous sound that rolled through the room. "We must quell it."

"We lack principle elements of the Qunari, Arishok," Karasten advised. "We lack the Ben-Hassrath. We lack an essence subtlety. We are warriors, meant to meet on the field of battle. We-"

"I understand what it is to be a warrior, Karasten," Arishok frowned. The other Qunari fell silent, and in the back the Arvaarad paced slowly, scratching his arms restlessly. Arishok watched him out of the corner of his eye, breathing out one exhale after another, increasingly loudly. "Arvaarad, what are you doing?"

"Observing," Arvaarad answered without hesitation.

"Then observe while you do something," Arishok scowled. "Go and find me someone to lead another excursion into the wilds." Arvaarad nodded, unfolding his arms and crossing the room in silence, passing the other Qunari with a small nod. Arishok waited for him to go, then breathed a sigh of relief. He could practically feel the collar the Saarebas wore around his neck, stifling him in everything he did. They suspected him, and he was not intent on giving them satisfaction in their suspicions. He was barely paying attention as Sten stepped out and checked something briefly, returning with a clearing of his throat.

"The Bas-Saarebas has returned," he explained. He gestured at the door. Arishok looked to him, his eyes narrowing slightly at the news. "The one they call Hawke," Sten clarified. Arishok gave a small acknowledgement and stood up straighter.

"Why is she here?" Arishok inquired.

"To see you," Sten answered. It wasn't the answer he was hoping for.

"Very well," he grumbled, moving reluctantly towards the door. It wasn't that he had no desire to speak with the Hawke, but he certainly lacked the interest at the moment. It was impossible to get anything of merit done when there were interruptions, and Kirkwall was one large, festering interruption. He brushed past the Qunari in the doorway and was flanked by two more as he stepped out into the open courtyard and looked out. He could see her - the Bas-Saarebas - from where he stood. She didn't seem to move as he settled into his chair, and he noticed that her eyes were focused furiously upon the ground. He cleared his throat, and those sky-blue eyes fixed suddenly upon him instead.

"Arishok," she said, almost confrontationally.

"You return," he said, admittedly quite surprised but not prepared to let her know. The last time they had talked he… she had returned, and seemed no worse for wear. She had even offered him a polite word of departure. It was more than most gave in this place, and unexpected of one who clearly was not familiar with the Qun. He had thought their business concluded, and yet his curiosity was woken from its dormant state.

"I… yes, I do," she confirmed, holding her attention upon him.

"You sound uncertain," he noted.

"I'm certain!" she shot back, her breaths passing exclusively through her nose.

"Why are you here?" he asked, leaning forwards curiously. She seemed to shift her position in equal parts nervousness and frustration. In the silence that followed he regarded her, seeing suddenly that she wasn't wearing what she'd been wearing before. The robes, if they were the same ones, were exposed up the side of her leg almost to the thigh, and the front had been separated sufficiently to draw attention to some of her chest. Even her hair seemed freshly… ruffled, he supposed the term might be. Freshly lifted.

"I'm… here because I wanted to see how you were doing," she said, clearing her throat as she straightened herself out.

"It is inconsequential," he answered bluntly.

"Can you not just answer my question?" she scowled.

"I did," he shrugged.

"Well I'm not satisfied with your answer," she retorted.

"I'm not here to satisfy you," he countered, and she seemed to take some personal level of affront to the admission. Or was that something else?

"I don't want you to _satisfy_ me," she said shakily, her hands smoothing through her hair as some attempt at distraction.

"Then what do you want me to do?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her expectantly.

"I don't want you to do anything!" she exclaimed. That only complicated matters further, in his eyes.

"Then why are you here?" he repeated, and she seemed even more confused and lost than before, if that were possible.

"I... " she began, then fell silent for a moment. She turned in place, looking for something that she didn't find, and seemed to quite thoroughly lose whatever control on herself that she had. Nonsense sounds came from her, and all the while the gaze of the Qunari rested upon her as she stumbled about. Eventually he could not bear the weight of her shame any further and cleared his throat, and with a wave of his hand dismissed the eyes of all the other warriors around him. They turned, continuing to regard the woman with seemingly-legitimate concern, though likely more for themselves. The only one remaining besides himself was Arvaarad, leaning over his shoulder.

"Is there a reason you remain, Arvaarad?" he asked, leaning back and looking over his shoulder.

"I am persistent in my vigilance, Arishok," the other Qunari admitted.

"But not in your adherence to commands," Arishok noted. "I dismissed the courtyard, and yet you remain."

"You wish for me to leave you unattended in the presence of the Bas-Saarebas?" he frowned.

"Have you such little faith in the Qun that you think me swayable by mere words?" Arishok growled, slowly approaching his feet. His eyes fixated on Arvaarad and with great reluctance the other Qunari left, and the courtyard was finally empty except for the two of them. His attention returned to Hawke and he waited, wondering whether she would say something, but she seemed to be even more intimidated somehow. It was as though having only his eyes upon her was somehow scarier. He moved down the steps before his seat slowly, filling the space she once occupied as she withdrew by several paces.

"What are you doing?" she frowned, seeming uncertain as to what was happening. Her hand seemed to want to come up to protect herself but she didn't seem to want to make an obvious motion.

"Why are you here?" he asked, crossing his arms and looking down at her.

"I… Why did you send everyone away?" she countered, her eyes fixated upon her.

"Because you seemed intimidated by something," he shrugged simply.

"I wasn't intimidated!" she frowned, gasping sharply.

"Then why are you here?"

"I…" she began, but once again she fell silent and seemed unable to formulate anything more than the first step of the recipe for a sentence. He waited, and as the silence drew on he found his patience dwindling to nothing. He cleared his throat, then turned with a frown and stepped away.

"Enough of this."

"What are you doing?" she demanded suddenly. "Where are you going?"

"You have no idea what you're here for," he accused with a huff. "You're here wasting time. Doing nothing and thinking that there is significance in that, like everyone in this city."

"Wasting your time?" she seethed. "Doing nothing of significance? Who do you think you're talking to?"

"I know who I am talking to," he pointed out, returning to his seat.

"You have no idea!" she accused, stepping forwards suddenly. Now she had words. Now they came quickly and easily. Fuelled by anger, they came all too quickly and easily. "You… You!" And then that anger burned out, all too suddenly, it seemed.

"You are mistaken," he said simply, and she seemed to rile up suddenly at the accusation. She staggered forwards several paces, approaching him with a storm of steps that brought her up before him.

"Who do you think you are telling me what's what?" she demanded. He rose once again as she pushed her hand in his face, and pointed her finger at him sharply. "You! And to think, I came all the way here just to see you!"

"I appreciate the gesture," he said, retaining his even tone. She flushed at the disarming words and held in place, seeming to be frozen except those dazzling blue eyes that darted up and down in confusion and even apparent shock. He waited, but was not expecting it as she pushed herself up suddenly, and his reflexes were not fast enough to catch her as she pressed her lips to his. He withdrew slightly but the taste remained, and his mind felt on fire. A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind, mostly focused around the words of the Arvaarad and the demons concealed within the words of the unleashed Saarebas. She seemed just as shocked. Fear was evident in her eyes, and the flush burned brighter into her skin.

"I… I…" she stammered, her hands fidgeting and body shrinking as she withdrew. He wasn't capable of developing words any more elaborate, and found himself wordless as she moved away. She didn't get far in her steps before just turning and rushing towards the exit toward the docks, picking up speed the further she got. In the dead air he could pick up the curses hissed into the air beneath her breath, and he sunk back into his chair as his thoughts slowly began to coalesce.


	10. Chapter 10

It was a good hour before anyone disturbed him. Not a thing moved in the courtyard. So thorough was the silence that he could hear people talking over the walls, complaining or shouting at one another, or trying to peddle their pathetic wares among the loading and unloading of the ships. In the bubble of solitude he thought, and thought hard. Hawke's words were running rampant through his head, and it wasn't even the speaking that troubled him most. The contact had been so physical. So tangible. Like an earthquake it had rocked him far beyond the surface, and his core continued to tremble through the aftershocks.

It was one thing for him to have his doubts and concerns, but that wasn't what he was feeling. The way she'd behaved and the things she'd said were one thing, but what she'd done was something completely different. It stoked a fire somewhere within him. He needed to know, and he resented what that meant. He resented what he knew he would be telling the others, should they come to ask. And they would. Arvaarad was waiting just out of sight, he was certain, anticipating being called back in with the intent of interrogating him on what was said in the silence, but it wasn't a matter the Arishok intended on discussing or debating. That was what it would become. A debate, and he refused to entertain it.

"Come on!" he called, and within moments the courtyard was filled once more. The Qunari were wordless in returning to their posts, no doubt wracked with questions but not feeling compelled to ask them. It was not like his own curiosity that, even now, burned a hole in his stomach and sought to devour him from the inside.

"I would speak, Arishok," Arvaarad admitted as he approached.

"Then speak," came the terse reply.

"I wish to know what it is you spoke of with the Bas-Saarebas."

"She didn't know," Arishok shrugged. "I thought to give her privacy, but even when alone she didn't know what she wished to ask. She was… difficult."

"Difficult?" Arishok responded with a nod. Arvaarad cleared his throat, and crossed his arms tightly. "And is that all that happened?"

"I need to reflect," Arishok said, looking back at him with a deep inhale. "Do not concern yourself with what transpired. You will be told what I deign necessary."

"That you need to reflect at all, considering how little seemed to have happened…" Arvaarad pointed out, and faded to silence. The lingering implication went ignored, as Arishok refused to acknowledge it.

"I am doing what I see as being best," Arishok said at last. "If you doubt my leadership, then speak."

"Not your leadership, just-"

"Then it is not necessary to speak about it." The tone was final and Arvaarad did not speak. The only sounds came from his footsteps as he paced behind the seat, practically marching back and forth to flush out his frustration. Eventually the words overwhelmed him, and he spoke once more.

"I don't like it."

"You don't like anything."

"I like some things."

"Name something." There was a brief silence, and Arishok gave a small nod. "See?"

"The small, baked things the humans make. They're sweet, and like bread." Arishok looked at him for a moment, then shook his head slowly.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I think you imagined it," he admitted, rolling his eyes at the other Qunari.

"No, they sell them in the street. The viscount's son brought some as some sort of gift when he first came." Arishok looked over and frowned.

"I was not informed of this."

"It was… They had to be inspected, and they went faster than expected," Arvaarad explained apologetically. "I should arrange for someone to bring more."

"I have no desire for the sustenance the bas pollute themselves with," Arishok declined. "I have more than enough to occupy my mind. The Bas-Saarebas…"

"What of her?" Arvaarad asked quickly.

"She is strange. I thought that the extent, but she is even more peculiar than even I expected."

"What are you saying?" the other Qunari frowned. "You are… curious?"

"I intend to find out," Arishok said. "I don't know why. I don't know what it is, but it is something. First I must identify what I am curious about, and then how best to approach it."

"Curious? I knew it!" Arvaarad exclaimed. "I knew it."

"I don't want to hear what you know, Arvaarad," the Arishok informed him. "Keep it to yourself and stop jumping to assumptions. I'm perfectly capable of dealing with the bas without needing you to sit on my shoulder."

"Do you know _why_ I am supposed to sit on your shoulder, Arishok?" Arvaarad asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Of course I do, Arvaarad. Do you think that I have forgotten?" He stood slowly and looked down at the other Qunari with narrow eyes. "I am not influenced by anything but my desire for the Qun. That being said, I need to know more. It does none of us any good to go into battle with an enemy we do not know."

"I know of the Saarebas, Arishok," was the response.

"I do not question your knowledge with the broad, Arvaarad. I question the specifics. This Hawke is as unique as a dragon. She is deserving of as much delicate attention."

"And like a dragon is a reckless, untamed force of nature that would do well being culled when it cannot be controlled."

"She is not reckless," Arishok frowned, then paused and shook off the thought. "She's not out of control."

"She has no handler," Arvaarad countered. "She has no one she is held accountable to."

"She at least is accountable to me," Arishok pointed out.

"Is she?" Arvaarad laughed. "The Antaam, yes. We are, without question, accountable to you, Arishok, but she is not of the Qun."

"Not yet."

"You think her a convert?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "She'll never be truly of the Qun. She will always bear that… taint."

"She seems to show genuine interest," Arishok shrugged. "If she joins, it would be entirely to our benefit."

"And if she does not?" Arvaarad checked.

"That would be a disappointment…"

"Would it?" Arvaarad asked, leaning in a little. Arishok paused, then stepped aside, moving toward the back of the compound.

"To the Qun…"


	11. Chapter 11

Why had she listened to Isabela? Maker's Breath, surely she knew better than to even entertain the idea of doing as Isabela suggested. She was the most unreliable… No, that wasn't fair. She was very reliable, including her reliability in how flaky she was. Every time they went past the Qunari compound there was some excuse. No, she was right the first time. It was fair. In the event of a calamity there was equal chance that Isabela would thrive as she would avoid it. Hawke stood in the doorway of one of the buildings nearby, pressing her palms against her eye sockets in the hopes that she could somehow push the images out.

She had kissed him. Maker… she'd done it, really, and he'd not even responded. Was… Was there something she'd missed? Was she crazy? Did he not like it? Was that why he'd not said anything? Was he embarrassed? Or was there something else? Her mind felt like it was exploding, and she turned and struck her forehead into the stone over and over.

"Went well, I take it?" came a cheerful, playful tone. Hawke didn't respond and remained pressed against the wall, hoping that she was just imagining it. "Hawke? What's wrong?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Isabela," she murmured despairingly.

"Why not?" Hawke's attention switched over to Varric, spotting the dwarf just around the corner. "C'mon Hawke. I _need_ the story."

"No, you don't," she corrected. "This is just one of those stories that never makes it to page, Varric. Really."

"What did you do?" Isabela laughed. "It can't be _that_ bad, Hawke. Come on!"

"Isabela," Hawke snapped warningly, hissing as she inhaled a breath. "Let's just… Let's go."

"Oh my, it _is_ that bad!" Isabela gasped, pressing her fingertips against her chest in shock.

"Is it?" Merrill asked, stepping around and leaning against her staff. "Is there anything we can do?"

"No, there's nothing anyone can do," Hawke huffed, running her fingers through her hair. "It's just…"

"Did you at least flirt a little?" Isabela asked.

"Flirted?" Varric asked, looking at her curiously. "Where do you think she went?"

"Me?" Isabela returned. "Where do _you_ think she went?"

"She hasn't gone anywhere. She's right here," Merrill pointed out. The group seemed to fall silent for a moment, and Hawke got in there first.

"Isabela, I swear, if one word comes out of your mouth…"

"Oh come on Hawke, I already get admonished enough for what I put in there…" the pirate captain complained.

"What do you mean? Like bad food?" asked Merrill.

"Like raw meat," Varric smirked.

"Raw and wriggling…" Isabela contributed. Merrill's sound of simultaneous shock and revulsion could be heard, even as Hawke tried to block everything out.

"That's terrible for you, Isabela! You should cook your food! That's what I do!" the elf said sternly.

"I didn't know you made a habit of handling thick meat, kitten," Isabela teased. Varric gave her a small nudge, and she fell quiet even as Merrill defended herself.

"Of course I do! When I was with the Dalish the hunters would bring their kills back, and sometimes I'd help them with their meat if there was a lot of it."

"Really?" prompted the pirate wickedly.

"Of course! The whole tribe was expected to help! It's one of the things I sort of miss about being there." She gave a longing sigh, oblivious to the twin smirks plastered across the faces of the other two.

"If I need to report you two to Aveline, I will," Hawke warned with a frown.

"Hawke, have I ever told you that you're more threatening than my mother ever was?" Varric laughed. "And Aveline is far more intimidating than my father was, too."

"It's because she's part-woman," Isabela noted.

"Part-woman?" Merrill asked. "I thought she was all woman? What's the other part?"

"Statue," Isabela shrugged. "She's woman enough to act like it when it suits her, but any other time it's this golem coming after you like Anders goes after sympathy."

"Hey, come on now. Leave Red and Blondie be," Varric chided.

"You're calling her Red now?" Hawke asked, confused.

"Not to her face, of course," the dwarf shrugged. "I've got at least _some_ sense of self-preservation. I want to write about her at some point, but I need a name to call her. Something that doesn't obviously point her out."

"You're writing a book about a golem-like, angry, stoic, fierce red-headed guard captain and still think that calling her 'Aveline' would be the big clue?" Isabela smirked.

"I'm thinking I'd explore her more sensual side," Varric said, giving a non-committal shrug. "I haven't really gotten into it all that much yet. It's only fifty or so pages of drafts."

"And how many pages are you into writing about me?" Hawke asked suspiciously.

"What makes you think I'm writing about you?" the dwarf responded. "Really Hawke, I'm so deeply involved in everything you do that I'd end up with two hundred pages of incriminating evidence that would put me away for the rest of my life."

"Then use an alias for yourself," Hawke proposed. "You can be… Lock Chestbare."

"That's good," Varric smiled. "I may use that somewhere."

"And what would you call me?" Isabela asked, crossing her arms with a curious look on her face.

"I don't know Rivaini. But then, isn't Isabela a false name anyway?" he asked.

"What?" Hawke blinked, looking over at her suddenly. "Really?"

"No! I mean, yes! Yes, of course it is," Isabela said quickly. Hawke was silent, and unconvinced.

"Merrill, do you suppose there's some way of forcing Isabela to tell the truth?" she asked, looking to the elf.

"What? Like with blood magic, you mean?" Merrill checked, looking Isabela over for a moment. Isabela stepped back, trying to move to position herself behind Varric. "Yes," she determined. "Yes, I suppose so."

"Good, then-"

"Hawke had a sex dream about the Arishok," Isabela announced. The silence that followed the statement was immense. Varric and Hawke seemed in equal amounts of shock, and Merrill quite clearly sat trying to figure it out.

"What? Like…"

"Isabela! Shut up!"

"Really Hawke?" Varric smirked. "Bravo."

"No, Varric, I-"

"And she was in the compound to go and address her 'feelings' face-to-face," Isabela explained, leaning against Varric slightly. "That's why she looks so damn sexy."

"Really?" Merrill asked, leaning in to look at Hawke. Hawke, meanwhile, was trying to cover herself up and finding that she didn't seem to have enough clothing to effectively do that. "I think Hawke looks great all of the time." She paused, then tilted her head. "Well, except when there's blood and… things everywhere."

"Thank you Merrill," Hawke sighed, deciding to just go back to pushing her head into the wall and hoping and wishing she could just fall through it.

"So what happened?" Varric asked, quite clearly wishing he had something to write with.

"Maybe I should tell you when you're able to write this?" Hawke suggested, trying to distract the conversation. Maybe by the time they got around to it, they'd have forgotten all about it.

"Bianca will remember the fine details," the dwarf smirked.

"Of course she will," Isabela grinned, running a finger daintily across the crossbow's frame. "Bianca is an amazing woman…"

"And on that note, let's go," Hawke suggested, stepping around them and marching in the direction of Lowtown. The others followed behind her slowly, sharing various silent looks. As they began ascending the stairs Merrill moved up alongside her.

"So, Hawke… did he kiss you?" she asked quietly, glancing backwards at the others to make sure they couldn't hear. Hawke's pace faltered and she almost stumbled up the stairs and onto her face. Her cheeks flushed and she ducked her head, breathing in sharply and trying to fan herself to soothe the blush.

"Who told you?" she asked in a whisper, looking to Merrill with wide eyes.

"You… The uh… the dream?" Merrill blinked. "I thought you'd have kissed before you did anything else?"


	12. Chapter 12

He looked down at the boy in front of him, a mixture of unwelcome apprehension and indefatigable reluctance. How it had come to this, he didn't know. Desperate. That was the only word that could describe it, and it was unsatisfactory. The Qun did not permit desperation. There was no need for it. There should be no such sensation in the Arishok. He could not have doubts, and he could not allow himself to be backed into a corner without alternative.

And yet that was where he saw himself, at that moment. His mind was locked with Hawke, just as their lips had been. For that fleeting moment there had been nothing. No Qun, no Kirkwall, and it was intimidating. Intimidation that he did not understand. Intimidation in the form of a slight, frail human woman, standing many feet smaller than him, and a fraction of his weight. Humiliating and utterly unforgivable. He would not condone himself to be made a mockery of, even if it was in the privacy of just the two of them. He would not allow himself to be made the fool, and he would not permit it in a place such as this.

"Arishok?" the boy asked, seeming rather anxious himself. "Was there something you wished of me?"

"There is," he answered, inhaling deep into his barrel chest. "Yes, Saemus. I have something to ask that is unique to your experience." Unique, and something he could ask the boy without incurring speculation and suspicion from Arvaarad that was more annoying and frustrating than it was useful.

"Anything, Arishok," the viscount's son smiled. "I'm always eager to help! My dream is for yourself and the people of my father's city to get along! To live peacefully, and to prosper!"

"That is an admirable intent," Arishok complimented.

"Thank you," the boy smiled broadly. "I want nothing more than to see Qunari and Free Marchers together, united. Whether by the Qun, or Andraste, or something else, we are one people and-"

"Saemus, I wish to know about your women," Arishok said suddenly, and bluntly. The boy stopped short in his sentence, and looked shocked, confused, and downhearted all at once. Arishok didn't acknowledge it, and waited patiently for a response.

"May I ask why?" he requested politely.

"No," Arishok refused, resting his eyes firmly upon the boy. Even this seemed to shock him.

"Then… what do you wish to know?" Saemus asked defeatedly.

"I wish to know what is the significance in a woman's kiss," Arishok explained, though he felt pangs of uncertainty in the wondering.

"A kiss? That's precious, but it can mean a lot of things depending on who, or where."

"A relative stranger, on the lips," the Qunari qualified, refraining from breathing as he awaited the answer.

"That's…" Saemus began, bumbling briefly as he sought the response. "That's quite something," he admitted.

"Yes, it is," the arishok agreed, "but what something?"

"I don't know," Saemus admitted. "I would think that it means she likes you."

"That is very likely," Arishok acknowledged. "I am very influential."

"Not like that," the human clarified quickly. "I mean if someone, like a stranger, decides to suddenly kiss you, and it's… passionate, and meaningful, then I think it means a lot more than it at first implies. I think that there are some expectations that are implied. Some indications of… romantic involvement."

"Romantic involvement?" Arishok asked, raising a wary eyebrow.

"Yes… and, I mean… specifically, sexual," he admitted, blushing a deep red colour. "Being a stranger, it is likely they are looking for something of a 'fling'."

"Affection is not shown through sexual expression in the Qun," Arishok frowned.

"No, that's… that's correct," Saemus agreed. "For humans, though, there is a deep connection made by it. It is important to show how you feel about someone. For humans that's… that's talking. Presenting gifts. Knowing what they want, or like, and meeting their needs. But… it's also showing yourself. Preparing to be vulnerable around them because you trust them to never hurt you."

"Is it, indeed?" He didn't like the sound of any of that. Perhaps all of this was a terrible idea. A mistake, and he should have just… forgotten about it, and acted as though it had never happened. Drawing his hand across his face, he rubbed at it vigorously in some attempt as scrubbing away the skin, somewhere hoping that would wash away the feelings, too.

"Usually," Saemus shrugged. "Not everyone is the same, though. Depending on the person, it can be very different. That's what makes it so exciting."

"The thought of people acting unpredictably is exciting?" Arishok asked with little appreciation.

"I…" Saemus began, but found himself in something of a bind, and he fell silent.

"Do not concern yourself," Arishok dismissed, waving a hand slowly. "It is something that I will consider for myself and decide upon. Your advice has been enlightening."

"I am glad to have served," the boy smiled, bowing slightly. He moved to the door, hesitating as he looked back at the Qunari. "Panahedan, Arishok." Arishok did not respond, focused single-mindedly, intently upon the ground as his mind worked at a fervorous pace, considering all manner of alternative. A thought occurred. Another struck it. And another. Soon there came myriads of ideas. Plans. Thoughts. He rose, his eyes wide as he considered his strategy from all angles.

Yes. It may work.


	13. Chapter 13

Hawke slumped against her chair a little, drinking from a bottle as the group around her milled about enthusiastically. Merrill was already slumped over, though Isabela was looking after her quite well. The two were sharing a sofa while the captain talked with Varric, sharing stories. The dwarf was drawing inspiration from Bianca, writing down the musings of the tipsy Isabela and adding his own flair to her rollickingly good stories.

Fenris and Anders were at opposite ends of the room. Fenris was talking with Aveline, trying to keep the pair separated. Anders, meanwhile, was conversing with Sebastian. The two were arguing, though it could have been much worse than it was if Fenris were involved. As it was they seemed to be debating… animals? Hawke didn't know. She just lifted up her drink slowly and tossed back more of the bottle.

"Serah?" Bodahn asked, approaching her suddenly. She looked over at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Is something wrong,?" she asked with a sigh.

"I'm just wondering whether we need to… wrap up this party?" the dwarf suggested meekly. "It's getting quite late and we're liable to get another visit from the guards."

"We'll stop when people start going home," she dismissed. "It'll be alright, Bodahn. Go to bed. I'll keep an eye on things here. Some of them might be sleeping over anyway."

"As you wish, serah," the dwarf nodded nervously, stepping away and looking around the room slowly. Hawke slumped backwards, inciting a visit from Isabela and Varric who carried Merrill between them like a puppet. They drew her over to Hawke and handed her over, draping her over the side of the chair.

"That's not good for her, you two," Hawke warned.

"Someone needs to take her home," Varric said, looking around. "I'm thinking Blondie."

"I think Fenris," Isabela countered.

"Isabela… Fenris and Merrill… don't get on," Hawke pointed out. "He doesn't like mages, remember?"

"And he's never been to the Alienage, either. And he doesn't want to," Varric added. "But Blondie's right there in Darktown, and Daisy ends up there half the time anyway."

"If I didn't know you better, Varric, I'd think that you were trying to set them up," Hawke noted, and she glanced across at Isabela. "You too."

"I think they'd be good for one another," Varric shrugged. "Every story needs a good romance. Blondie and Merrill? They'd have a good one."

"What's a romance without some drama?" Isabela countered. "She and Fenris are like hot and cold. You want the opposites because they're so juicy. Some of the best romances I had were with some of the most stuck-up guys."

"Are you calling _those_ romances, Isabela?" Hawke asked doubtfully.

"Well, they end in harsh words sometimes," she admitted, "but never pity parties."

"This isn't a pity party," Hawke scowled.

"I would have believed you if I didn't know the truth," Isabela smirked. "Speaking of… opposites." She raised an eyebrow, and Hawke ignored it as best as she could.

"Take her back there yourselves. The two of you. The Hanged Man is right around the corner, and we both know where you two will end up," she glanced at Isabela, adding "assuming nothing at the docks strikes your attention. Nothing… stuck-up…"

"Maybe I will," Isabela said in a haughty tone. "Come on Varric. Let's take our matchmaking skills somewhere they'll be appreciated."

"If you want to do matchmaking, try helping Aveline find someone," Hawke advised, watching the pair as they helped up Merrill and Isabela slung her over her shoulder.

"You don't know?" Varric asked in amusement. Hawke blinked, waiting.

"Know what?"

"Never mind," he dismissed playfully. He headed toward the door, but Bodahn intercepted them waving quickly.

"Serah, quickly, there's… there's someone to see you," he alerted.

"If it's the guards, tell them that the loud and obnoxious ones are already leaving," Hawke sighed.

"No, no!" Bodahn said quickly. Hawke was already heading to the door, bottle in hand, along with Isabela and Varric as they prepared to leave. She pulled the door open, glanced out at the street, then closing it again with a slam. She took a sharp breath, looking around at the crowd of confused, buzzed people.

"Guards?" Varric asked, reaching down for his coin purse. "Don't worry, I have this handled."

"Qunari," Hawke answered. A knock at the door behind her caused her breath to hitch, and she gasped, suddenly feeling much more sober.

"Qunari?" Isabela asked, and her expression turned from curiosity to glee. "Oh, there's here to take you away to a night of bliss! Go on, Hawke! It's meant to be!"

"Isabela, take everyone out through the basement!" Hawke ordered, gesturing wildly.

"The Qunari aren't going to come to Hightown to start a rumble, Hawke," Varric advised. "Or at least, they'd be foolish to. Shall we get Broody over here and find out?"

"No, I'll handle this," she said, shaking her head. "I'm sure they're here for me."

"Yes, they most likely are," Isabela agreed. "Shall I do your hair?"

"Isabela!"

"Come on, Rivaini," Varric gestured, and Isabela quickly turned and gathered everybody from the room, directing them to the door leading into the basement and into Darktown. Hawke waited until they left, but Bodahn lingered, and Sandal was with him.

"What shall we do about your mother, serah?" he asked urgently. Hawke inhaled sharply. She hadn't thought of that.

"Stay here. Look after her," Hawke ordered, and she suddenly turned and seized the door handle. Without another word she was outside, bringing it closed behind her, and she stumbled down the few stairs and into the street. She saw them all. They were scattered around the area, and as soon as it was apparent that she was alone they pounced.


	14. Chapter 14

The group returned beneath the cover of night, completely undetected. Arishok stood at their arrival, seeing the struggling form that they carried. One by one they fanned out through the courtyard and the Qunari on the walls marked them, their weapons readied in the event that they were followed, or that the bas in the sack suddenly decided to unleash her magic.

"Did she speak to you?" Arvaarad asked sharply. He was not happy with the plan, but Arishok was not of the opinion that it was Arvaarad's place to contend it. The Qunari shook their heads, but moved to him regardless.

"Be thorough," Arishok demanded. Arvaarad shot him a look, but gave a small nod.

"Of course, Arishok," he said, leading the other Qunari out of the courtyard. Arishok waited, detecting the anger of the other soldier that boiled beneath the surface. Had he an alternative, he might have taken it, but the Qun demanded they do as they did. They had none of the Ben-Hassrath with them. No experience to draw from. No alternatives to pursue. The Qun demanded that he pursue this avenue, and he did not question it.

The sack on the floor was still now, and he encroached upon it with slow and steady steps. He reached down, drawing his hand along the texture, and the body shifted suddenly at the disturbance. So she was alive, was she? He smiled briefly, then returned to the stoic expression he wore the rest of the time. He drew back the sack and pulled it down, seeing a pair of feet sticking out the end. He debated the sense in pulling her out of the sack here, but it was too exposed, and he bundled up the sack and lifted it up with ease, watching it shift suddenly like a fish on a line. He carried it off through the courtyard, returning to the back of the compound where they could be left to privacy.

His chambers were silent, and he closed and bolted the door at his back. No one would come, but he wanted to be certain. In just a few steps he crossed the room, and hauled the sack onto the bed effortlessly. He withdrew the sack and pulled it away, and an instant later was looking down on Hawke, who had apparently put up quite the fight. It wasn't as though he had expected her to just come along quietly, but it was more than he expected. She had been gagged tightly to keep her quiet, and her arms were bound to keep her from casting anything. Her eyes were not covered, though, and she glared at him with all manner of angry, muffled words spouted from behind the gag. A small stream of smoke seemed to be curling up behind her, but it was apparent that she couldn't do more than that.

"My apologies, Hawke," he said, looking down at her and keeping a small distance from her. "I knew of no better way to get you here without it being suspicious. I do not mean for this to be an unpleasant experience."

Hawke blurted a stifled response, then huffed and rolled back onto the bed, looking away.

"You are permitted your opinion," he shrugged, then reached down slowly. She reacted almost instantly, kicking away and across the bed, but he seized her by a leg and dragged her all the way back to him. She looked up and he saw that her eyes shook, likely from fury, and he brought his hand up so that she could see - much like he would for a timid animal. "I am not interested in a one-sided conversation, Hawke." She didn't seem to want to acquiesce, but held still and followed his eyes to the gag. He loosened it with a finger, then pulled it loose.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Hawke demanded the second she was free. "Tying me up like this?"

"I did not," Arishok pointed out.

"Your soldiers, then," she scowled.

"They are not trained to capture, only to kill. Abducting you is not something I would have asked to them if I had an alternative that was better suited."

"Damn it, Arishok, I'm not criticizing their _technique_!" Hawke shouted, struggling and pulling away a little. "I didn't want to be abducted _at all_. I didn't want to be stolen away from my house like I'm some damn carpet!"

"I do not consider you a carpet, Hawke…"

"That's not the point!" she shrieked, then sighed and flopped back against the bed. She fought at her restraints for a moment, then gave up and held still. "What do you want, Arishok?"

"I must preface, Hawke, so that you understand, I-"

"What? Like I'm some kind of idiot?" she scowled. "I can figure things out for myself, Arishok. Don't mince words with me."

"I…" he began, then fell silent for a moment as he paced back and forth, moving throughout the room and occasionally sending a glance in her direction. She watched him intently, wondering silently at the purpose, and when he said nothing the made a sound of distress.

"Can you at least let me use my arms? I think I'm losing feeling in my fingers, and… well, it's not as though I'm going to kill you and try and fight my way out of this place, am I?"

"You are unpredictable, Hawke," he pointed out. "I would not know whether you could keep yourself so restrained without the assistance of the rope."

"You have no idea what I'm capable of," she retorted quietly. She shifted a little more but it was useless to fight, and she couldn't get any sort of leverage - physical or otherwise. Arishok paced back toward her and she receded back across the bed, looking up at him again. "Well?"

"Since you showed your… affection, I have struggled to reconcile it in my mind," he admitted. She seemed stunned, and was silent. She had even stopped her worming in an attempt at freeing herself and looked up at him in confusion. "The Qun demands that my curiosity does not persist. I refuse to be distracted by the possibilities when I need to be aware of the reality, therefore I need to know what this is." He was silent for a moment, and Hawke looked to him.

"What… what is?" she asked tentatively.

"In the Qun-"

"I don't care about the Qun, Arishok," she interrupted. "Talk about this, now." He paused for a moment, then cleared his throat.

"In the Qun, Hawke, we do not show appreciation for one another in the same way your people do. And yet…"

"And yet?" she asked, leaning up slightly. "What? All of this is just because you wanted to lay with me?" The question was asked incredulously, and she inhaled hotly at the suggestion. "Is that why I'm here?"

"I wanted to explore the thoughts and feelings that swarm my mind like locusts," he corrected.

"Locusts?" she huffed, turning her attention away. "How romantic."

"It is foreign to me," he clarified.

"Locusts, or romance? Or is there a difference?" she asked.

"Romance," he answered flatly. "It is not an easy thing for me."

"I can tell. Sending your buddies to go kidnap a girl doesn't do it for me. Isabela, maybe…" She shrugged, but he didn't seem impressed.

"Were I interested in Isabela, or anyone else, I would not have you before me, Hawke," he pointed out. "If you do not wish for me to proceed then you shall leave unharmed, and untouched. But if you should decide you want to explore this." Hawke didn't respond. She seemed lost in thought, and he couldn't bear to watch. He distracted his eyes, wandering away a little in the hopes that he would not have to bear the weight of her decision, or acknowledge the way it inflicted him. He expected a denial, and he turned to look at the bed, but she wasn't there.

He blinked, then approached it, wondering where she had gone. He turned, just barely catching sight of her as she threw her weight into him and tackled him towards it. She grunted, and he fell with a great thud, though as he moved to sit up he saw her recovering and scrambling atop him as best she could with her arms restrained.

"Hawke…"

"Save it!" she demanded, inhaling a great breath as she looked down at him. "You want this, Arishok? You want me?"

"That is an understatement," he answered. She seemed to flush a little, and his hand rose slowly towards her. She flinched from it as a reaction, then steadied herself a little as he brought his fingers to her cheek. She was hot, and his hand moved to push to her face fully as his thumb came across to brush over her lips. "Do you know what they say of the saarebas in the Qun?" he whispered.

"I am sure it's not anything good," she admitted. He smiled briefly.

"It is said that they possess demons in their words," he explained. "They are not permitted to speak. But I have not heard or seen such demons with you." His hand pulled her closer, and she went without contest. He could see everything, from the purity of her eyes to the small quiver of her lip. "And yet I am not convinced."

"What can I do to prove it to you?" she asked breathily. She moved closer of her own volition, barely an inch from him.

"Let me see for myself," he requested quietly. "Show me the demons behind your lips." She surged against his welcoming mouth quickly, and suddenly. He pulled her towards her, inhaling the gentle caresses of her lips, and his other arm wrapped around her to pull her fully against him.


	15. Chapter 15

Hawke knew little of the Qunari except what she had picked up over the past few years, but what she knew told her that they, as a people, didn't really enjoy the intimacy of one another's company.

Of course, she knew to avoid them as a rule, too.

But that voice wasn't speaking in her ear. There wasn't anything speaking in her ear as she felt deaf to the world, moving to him as she was pulled toward him. She had her own curiosity, and she wouldn't deny it. Her own wants. Her own impulses. He wanted to know what she had hidden with her, though, and she was absolutely willing to comply.

She pushed her lips to his, but he didn't feel as she might have expected. His skin was not as tough as she had thought it would be. It was smooth, in a sense, and warm. Her fingers interlocked with one another, her arms straining at the rope, but it gave her something of a thrill despite the frustration. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but more than that she wanted him to reach out and touch her.

Her lips moved back and forth in small, delicate motions, feeling his slowly beginning to emulate them. He was picking it up quickly, but it was too slow for what she wanted. She'd imagined so much more, and she wanted to see whether the reality lived up to her imagination. She shivered a little, reaching down to apply her lips against his neck a little, giving soft sounds of surprise as his arms tightened around her and gently squeezed the air from her lungs.

"Arishok," she whispered, leaning up to rest her lips against his ear, "I can only do so much with my arms like this…" She wriggled her hands a little as she mentioned it. "If you want to see what my mouth is capable of, and what else I can do, we need less obstructions."

"You wish for me to shed our clothing?" he checked. She looked up at him, giving him a wild look and a nod.

"If I told you that I wanted you to tear them from me and ravage me?" she asked, her voice quiet and barely audible.

"I…" the arishok began, inhaling into his barrel chest and slowly passing it back out. "I wouldn't know about that."

"This is usually very sterile for you, isn't it?" she asked, tilting her head at him slightly.

"Yes," he confirmed. She gave him a soft smile.

"When two lovers combine themselves, Arishok, they can express their emotions through it. Love. Want. Desire. Frustration…"

"Anger?" She froze a little, looking at him, then reluctantly nodding.

"Anger… I suppose," she said.

"That makes no sense," he frowned. "I do not understand it. I would like you to show me." She smiled, pushing a soft series of kisses beneath his neck. A few pulled and tugged at the skin, and she nodded against him.

"If you're not going to free me, Arishok, then at least free yourself," she insisted, running her body against his a little, though she was restricted in what she could do. His arms slowly unwrapped from around her and she lifted up, watching as he peeled away one piece of clothing after another. She moved out of the way and leaned up, making sure to push a breast up against his face while she ran her lips along the hard length of one of his horns.

Piece by piece he removed his clothing and she waited until the last piece had been shed, before drifting back down, ghosting her breath across his skin. Her mouth explored at the same speed as her eyes, exciting itself at the revealing of his chest and its many scars, but she didn't linger. One kiss after another was pressed against his stomach, and she hesitated, looking up at him across the hard lines of his body. She closed her eyes, recalling the vivid memories of her dream, and latched onto the thought as she descended further. A thrill passed through her as she dropped down, resting her head against his thigh, as she looked up at his length.

It took her a moment to fully appreciate the view, and she wasn't disappointed. She would have complimented him if she thought he'd appreciate it, but he was sure he didn't want her for her words.

She breathed in, detecting the scent of a great warrior. It smelled earthy, and as she drifted slowly towards him she could feel the heat radiating from his skin. He didn't move, and she took that as a challenge, gently nudging him with her nose. She felt his leg twitch beneath her and smirked, leaning in further and running her lips slowly along his length. His body shook again, and she watched with great enjoyment as his sleeping dragon uncurled and rose towards her. A small throaty sound came from him and she smiled against his skin as a shock of electricity ran through him.

Was he as excited as she was? His body certainly seemed to be, but he didn't make a move. She was sure he would, though, and she was damned sure that he was going to put his hands on her if it was the last thing she did.

She breathed a slow breath into his skin, watching as the length stood before her. A great Qunari pillar, she mused, and she moved forwards to run her lips slowly across him. The taste of his skin was like an aphrodisiac and she brushed all the way from the base to the tip along one side, feeling him swell beneath the touches of her mouth. He gave another groan and she smirked, circumventing the tip before descending back down the other side.

"I could do this all day, Arishok…" she murmured, grinning when he responded with a shift of his body. She hummed in amusement, bringing her attention to the underside of him and ran her tongue very slowly along it. Her eyes watched, catching his attention as he glanced down at her, and she smiled as she licked across the bundle of nerves beneath the head. His body twisted, restraining itself as best as it could. She could taste a particular sweetness there as she licked off with a flick, and she returned to running her lips gently along the sides, sucking slightly against the skin as she did so. Down one side, up the other. Along the underside, paying great amounts of attention to the sensitive spot, and delighting as his body shivered beneath him. Why didn't he just act? They both knew he wanted to.

She descended further the next time, nudging gently against his testicles as she brushed her mouth against them too. He didn't seem to know how to react, and she smirked before rising back up with another long lick. She didn't remove herself this time, and as she reached the top she slowly moved across, drawing her mouth down upon him. He twitched, writhing within her grasp, and she hummed and moaned gently as she slowly slid down. She didn't go far at first, drifting down and then back up to the tip before kissing off, and she returned all the way back to the base before repeating the slow, tormenting gestures. Each time was just as tortuous as the one preceding it, and she continued to watch him in some attempt at reading his body language.

The sudden presence of a hand on her head, pushing through her hair and urging her down, was met with a very appreciative groan and she moved easily, working down along him almost to the base of his length before he removed his touch, and she ran her tongue against the mass that filled her mouth and pressed against the back of her throat. She gave a swirl, then sucked steadily as she withdrew once again and pulled off him. She made a happy sound, and then one of desire as she pushed her lips to him once again, starting slow and deliberate and ignoring the urge to rush to press his throbbing member back into her.

He didn't seem to appreciate it and she was glad that she didn't. She wanted him frustrated, and she looked up at him, nudging him gently.

"What's the matter, Arishok?" she asked with a teasing, wicked tone.

"You are deliberately trying to frustrate me, Hawke," he growled, though it wasn't like the other growls. It was softer.

"If you don't like it, Arishok, then I suggest you do something about it," she suggested, ignoring the demanding tone. "I can sit here and do this all night long."

"No," he said, barking the word, and her lips turned up into a smirk as she pushed down around him, then slid back up and off with another kiss.

"Arishok, if you're not going to take control here, then do not complain at the way I do this," she chided. "I've already told you to ravage me. With my arms in this position, I can't very well do it myself, can I?"

"Then give me a moment to think," he sighed, taking a deep breath. She frowned for a moment, then stole the air from him by suddenly swallowing him down, then lifting back off.

"Don't think, just do," she demanded. "Are you really telling me that you don't know whether you want to be inside me?" She was a little hurt at the insinuation, and pulled away a little to look at him.

"Of course I…" he began, then faded into silence. She lifted an eyebrow, waiting for him to finish.

"Are you afraid, Arishok?" she asked, trying to be sincere, but he didn't seem to take it as such.

"Of course not," he huffed. She waited a moment, then mused at herself.

"Does the little Hawke mage scare the big, powerful Arishok?" she asked, leaning down to nuzzle against him with her cheek. "If you're not capable of handling me, Arishok, I understand. We can always find someone else…"

"No," he refused, but she ignored him.

"We can see whether another of your Qunari would like to take me on. Maybe I can wrap my lips around their-" She didn't finish the sentence as his hand wrapped around her neck, and she looked up at him, waiting to see his reaction. Her arms tensed and fidgeted a little, and she let out a shaky breath, swallowing hard.

"No," he repeated, sitting up and continuing to hold her. She didn't resist, but as he rose to his feet she found it harder to breath and flailed a little in an attempt at standing somewhere. "I refuse that outcome, Hawke." She tried to nod, but couldn't really move her head enough to do so. His eyes pierced hers, then wandered down her body slowly. She felt his other hand touch against her chest and her breath hitched, but as her body moved his grip on her neck tightened.

"Arishok…" she whispered, trying to swallow again. "Put me down…"

"Not yet," he refused, and she felt his fingers slowly moving to loosen and pull free her clothing, shedding one layer after another. The heady rush she felt was a mixture of excitement and light-headedness, and she tried to twist again, finding herself no better able to fight his grip. Her legs reached up to try to brace themselves against him but could barely get a foothold before slipping again, and she swayed slightly. Before she could try anything she she felt herself bump against a solid surface, and felt the cold, hard wall at her back.

If she hadn't been aroused before, she was now. She felt the wetness between her legs like a blaring beacon at the back of her mind, and her head swam as he pulled her clothing from her and left her naked before him. She didn't know whether he noticed the glistening on her thighs, and she bit her lip as his hand ran across her bare flesh, sending fire rushing through every inch of her body.

"Take me…" she whispered. "Here. Now. Take me, please…" He didn't respond. His grip lessened slightly and she inhaled deeply, then shuddered an exhale as his fingers brushed across her breast. Almost too immediately after his touches arrived against her cheek, and she turned to brush her lips against his fingers, trying to entice one towards her mouth. He let the bait linger and she reached for it, trying to stretch as much as she could, but he kept them perpetually out of reach until she slumped with a groan of frustration. "What are you waiting for?" she growled.

"Is frustration not a part of intercourse?" he asked, looking at her challengingly. She forced her head back against the wall and looked at him with a glower.

"Arishok, if you don't take me right this second I-" He tightened again and the words died with the action.

"You'll what, Hawke?" he checked, leaning in a little. She didn't respond, but stared at him with want very evident in her eyes, trying to urge him forward. His body approached slowly, pressing against her, and it was unlike anything she'd even imagined. The sheer bulk of his size pushing against her was stifling. It made her feel tiny, and insignificant, and his length was firmly between them, trying to push into her through her stomach. It was thrilling and she gave a soft moan, trying to shift her hips against him to usher him inside. It was hard, and she was in absolutely no position to make it easy, but she did the best she could. Her legs wrapped around him, and inch by inch they worked up his sides. It was exhausting, but he didn't seem to move and was more interested in watching what she was doing.

Finally she pushed a leg up, succeeding in sliding it between them and over his shoulder, and the other went on the other side. She breathed a sigh of relief, and looked at him with stern eyes. She could still feel him pressed against her, but not in her, and it was becoming unbearable.

"Please," she said with a desperate look in her eyes, and he seemed to see and recognize the want. He shifted back slightly, then very carefully pressed forwards again. She could feel it almost immediately and gave a small shriek as he pushed against her, and her body welcomed him, wrapping around him and squeezing as he filled her. She shook a little, groaning in ecstasy and throwing her head back and forth a little. "Yes…" she shivered, deliberately squeezing around him and delighting in the feeling of him filling every inch of her. He withdrew slightly, then thrusted slowly. Her vision blurred and her mind went blank for a moment. Again, and she threw her head back, feeling the delight of him slowly pounding her against the wall. Each pulse was met with a small sound of desire from her, and her body shook with excitement as he pushed against her legs, bending her in half and making each penetration feel even deeper.

She expected him to speed up, but he didn't. After a few motions he stopped, and she gave a long whine and looked at him. She was about to ask him what was wrong when he pulled away suddenly, and she went with him, torn from the wall and held against him, impaled upon him. His free arm wrapped around her back, the hand stretching beneath her to grasp at her backside and support her slightly. She fell back a little as he released his hold on her neck and the other arm mirrored the first, and he pulled her against her, forcing himself in just a fraction of an inch further and causing her to moan loudly.

She was still adjusting to the new position when he lifted her slowly, and she gripped him with a clench of muscles as she was raised, and then suddenly felt herself lowered quickly upon him. It caused her to elicit a small cry of pleasure, and to stifle it she leaned forwards as much as she could. Again he raised her, then dropped her back down upon him, and she shook. Her mouth leaned forwards, trying to meet his, but he didn't respond. He simply lifted her again and she groaned before she was even released, and her body aching with a hunger that she could never sate. Her mouth reached for his, tightening around him as she was impaled once more upon his length, and only as he settled into a rhythm of lifting and lowering her against him did he lean in enough that she could seize his lip.

It wasn't much, but it was enough. She sucked against the soft skin, biting down a little each time he rushed to fill her, and the sounds she made grew in pitch and intensity as she found herself moving faster and faster. She loved it. She loved everything about it, and it was just too much. Much too much. She bit down against him as the tide of pleasure surged against her, and she fell to it, falling into the sea of bliss with a cry and a full tightening of her body. The feeling lingered, and even continued to grow as he persevered, and she felt her orgasm dragging on for long, long seconds as he continued to fill her and throw her around as though she were nothing more than a plaything to him. Only when she felt the hot explosion within her did he come to a stop, and he gripped her tightly, pushing further against her and throbbing as though he were growing twice the size he had been.

She pushed against him, trying to hold herself against his chest, but before she got the chance his mouth was upon hers, and he sucked her lip gently. She melted to his touches, moaning into his kiss, and at the small squeezes and stroking movements of his fingers.


	16. Chapter 16

The golden glow of early morning began to slowly permeate the room, highlighting the sharp corners of the furnishings and the soft curves of the figure that continued to slumber. Arishok was awake long before the sun had risen. The female at his side didn't seem to notice and didn't move, and he wondered whether that was a good thing. He needed time to think, and felt as though he'd been doing precious little of that recently.

His hand reached over as delicately as he could manage to run along her side, wondering whether she would have the same doubts. The same thoughts. No, he reminded himself. There was no way she'd have the same issues. She probably didn't think twice about that sort of thing… or… was that just his interpretation? Was she like the other bas? She had to be. She was born and raised among them, and yet she was not like they were. At least not to his mind. She was some strange amalgamation of the two. Qun in a bas body, like a Vashoth, but different.

She stirred slightly and his hand froze, and he wondered for a moment whether she was going to say something, or whether he'd woken her at all. She didn't respond in any way and he relaxed, feeling ridiculous for his concern over something like this. She was a fraction of his size, and yet was more intimidating to him than any beast, or even the Arigena or Ariqun. The small, frail Bas-Saarebas and her demons. The threat from another world that resided behind her lips, and yet she was no apparent threat to him. Arvaarad seemed to believe that she was a threat with a level of persistent paranoia, and for the longest time Arishok had believed implicitly, but now…

Now he wondered whether there were other implicit details that he had not considered alternatives to. Other aspects that he had glossed over. Other superstitions that were unwarranted. Some of the Saarebas were dangerous, naturally, but were they all? And what then of those that resided in the city? His first impression had been of the maggots inhabiting the festering body, feeding upon the rot and multiplying in the filth. Was there some redeeming quality that he did not see?

His eyes fell upon Hawke once more and he supposed that it was very possible that it was the case. She was one of the ones trying to salvage the city from what it was, rather than contributing to the moral, ethical, and even physical decay. He himself felt torn over the matter. His urge to fix the problems of the city was stifled by his compulsion to his duty, and it tore at him to exist in such a city where the vulgarity of the bestial nature of men, elves and dwarves were on display, and worse, lifted up as role models for others. His Qunari were left to suffer in that same purgatory while they hunted for the relic, trying to correct a mistake that should never have happened.

Perhaps he could find his redemption through Hawke. Perhaps she could bring the will of the Qun to those that sought to impart suffering and grievance upon others. It was a thought that gave him hope, even if it was one that he knew would never come to pass. She was not Qun. That much was obvious, and yet she followed the tenets almost informally, embodying the strength and perseverance that made a warrior a warrior. To ask her to commit to the Qun would only distract her from her uniqueness. Worse, it would jeopardise the allure she possessed, and if such a thing was lost, was there anything keeping him interested in her? More important still was the question of why such a thing was so important to him, when he should have been just as content to shrug off the loss of such a relationship.

She shifted suddenly and broke his concentration, and he withdrew a hand as she turned to face him, wrapping her arm around his waist as she cosied up against him. He fixated upon her and barely breathed, just waiting for her to say or do something, but she didn't and was apparently quite content to lay there asleep and pressed against him.

"Hawke?" he checked, whispering her name and immediately wishing he hadn't. In disturbing the waters the ripples seemed to grow, and soon the serenity of the morning was lost. Her eyes blinked open slowly, fixing upon him with their cobalt stare, and he exhaled slowly as her lips broke into a smile.

"Still here?" she asked, almost sounding surprised. "And here I was expecting that I'd wake up and find that you'd disappeared into the night."

"Disappeared?" He didn't know where she got the idea. "From my own compound?"

"True," she laughed sleepily. "I suppose I should be just fortunate to have woken up at all."

"I have no intention of having you killed," he said bluntly.

"Tell that to my thighs and hips," she groaned, smiling as she rolled over and onto him. "You damn near tore me in half last night."

"You seemed to enjoy it at the time," he pointed out.

"Only me?" He hesitated before answering, and gave a slow shake of his head as he looked up at her.

"I enjoyed a great many things," he admitted quietly. She laughed a little and shifted her position slightly.

"Don't sound so embarrassed about it," she teased, poking his chest with her finger. "You make me feel like we did something incredibly… I don't know… insidious? Illicit?"

"I don't feel like we did either of those things," he said quickly. "It was just… different."

"Different?" she repeated curiously.

"I felt things that I didn't commonly feel in other similar situations," he clarified. He didn't know how to explain it. An analogy, perhaps? But what analogy compared to it?

"I exceeded your expectations, did I?" she mused. "I'm glad to know that I'm so highly regarded."

"What little expectation there was," he pointed out. "I do not make a habit of assuming others will obey just because the Qunari do. You are… unpredictable, Hawke. Last night you were as likely to end up in my bed as you would in the ground."

"In the ground?" she laughed, quirking an eyebrow. "Are you implying that you'd win if push came to shove?"

"I'm quite confident, yes," he nodded. "You have to understand, Hawke, I've seen all your moves now. You're easily managed." The look she gave him was an incredulous one, and he watched as her expression changed. She quickly regarded him with a dangerous look, and lifted her head slightly to look down at him.

"Easily managed?" she checked as though she'd misheard. "I'm easily managed?"

"Are you going to try and prove me wrong?" he asked, leaning up slightly. Her hands came down with surprising insistence, trying to push him back down.

"There's no trying about it," she grumbled, leaning up a little, and where there had once been a sternness he detected a small sliver of anxiety. "Am I?"

"Are you what?"

"Am I… so boring to you?" she asked, struggling either to find or formulate the words. He didn't answer immediately. "I am, aren't I?" she guessed, sighing in disappointment.

"Don't presume to know what I think," he chastised with a grumble. He nasally exhaled, thinking slowly and carefully.

"Shouldn't have to think at all," she muttered, averting her eyes.

"If I wanted to give you an answer without making sure I was certain, perhaps," he agreed. "I'm not the sort to leave you with any sort of doubts on the matter, Hawke. This may be a more serious question than you might suspect."

"Why? Because it determines whether you just kick me out of your bed?" she huffed.

"Because it determines whether or not the Qun permits me to continue to pursue you as I have," he said seriously. Was she still possessive of that same strange quality, or was she not that same person any longer? It was hard to tell, and he was concerned that the truth of the matter may be that he now knew everything he needed to know.

"What do you mean?" she asked quietly, and suspiciously.

"I am free to pursue my curiosity, but without a curiosity I have no reason to pursue you," he explained. "It's very clear in the Qun."

"What?" Hawke gasped loudly. "Fuck the Qun!" Arishok gave an audible grumble at the outburst.

"I can appreciate that you may not understand," he said quietly, pursing his lips.

"Understand?" she asked with angry eyes. "You just sat here and told me that I was only good for one night, and that you have no intent of seeing me again after this!"

"That is untrue," he said evenly, fixing his attention upon her. "I said that I needed to think."

"That's just as bad!" she argued, starting to pull away, only for his hand to come up and stop her before she got very far.

"I would not pressure you into making an important decision rashly, Hawke," he pointed out. "I would ask you to at least extend that courtesy to me."

"No one's stopping you thinking," she frowned, refusing to look at him, and he nodded and thought on for a moment before clearing his throat.

"I feel that I understand you better," he said quietly, "but that doesn't mean I wouldn't mind getting to know you better."

"Oh, I'm sure," she grumbled. "Shall I just roll over so you can know me quickly and then throw me out when your 'curiosity' is 'satisfied'?"

"You misunderstand," he said, shaking his head. "I think it almost deliberate."

"Deliberate?" she scoffed. "It seems you don't know me very well, then, if you think I'm deliberately trying to be stupid."

"No, it seems I don't," he said with a smile. "It may take me a long while to fully comprehend what it is that makes you unique."

"And when you do?" she checked. "You'll… what? Just cast me aside and shrug me off?"

"You could always convert to the Qun," he suggested abruptly. She laughed suddenly, and the sound hung in the air hollowly.

"I'm not the sort that enjoys a collar around their neck and their tongue cut out," she pointed out.

"We don't do that to all the Saarebas," he retorted. "I… understand that you're hesitant about such a commitment."

"I'm not hesitant," she said flatly. "I'm not doing it."

"Perhaps in time you might change your mind," he proposed.

"Perhaps in time you might abandon the Qun," she returned. "How likely is that to happen, Arishok? Would you abandon your sainted philosophies for a bas like me?" She seemed to already know the answer, and he didn't even have to think it.

"It seems like you're suggesting that we're at an impasse," he noted.

"We are," she confirmed, crossing her arms. He looked at her in silence, then broke into a smile.

"You constantly surprise me," he admitted, leaning up slightly. "Perhaps you are a mystery that can never be unravelled."

"I…" Hawke took in a breath and sighed it out. "Arishok, you can't taunt me with that sort of thing. Don't pretend that I'm significant to you."

"I'm not pretending, Hawke," he said, and his hand reached up to draw a finger across her cheek. Her skin was soft and almost fragile, and he observed its many hues and the way they changed in response to the touch.

"Don't…" she whispered, but the word was a half-felt whisper. She leaned in, then turned away, locked in a battle with herself as she debated giving in or persevering with her stubbornness. He leaned in further in the hopes of helping her to make up her mind, pushing his lips to hers when she didn't withdraw. The electricity of the contact held for just a moment, and as he pulled back she was upon him, working her lips into his in return.

He lay back with her, drawing her into his embrace and pulling her against him. His fingers ran against her bare back and squeezed as they reached her thighs, prompting an aching groan from her that resulted in her pushing back and up into his hands with a small arch of her back. Her mouth worked against his jaw and he passed out a pleasure-filled sigh. She slipped down his body a little, pushing more and more against his hands as she slid her kisses across his neck, then his torso. She passed his stomach before long, and his fingers meanwhile had moved across the entirety of her back and suddenly found themselves embroiled in her hair. He waited, then gave a sigh as he felt her fingers and lips move across him. The burst of energy and rush of excitement sped through his system, but before he could enjoy another moment of it she slipped completely from his grasp and from the bed entirely.

"Hawke?" he blinked, sitting up slowly to see her standing there, slowly pulling on her clothing.

"If you'd like something, Arishok, I'm sure you can come and find me when I'm not busy with other business," she replied coolly, flashing him a look from across the room. "After all, I think it's good for someone like yourself to keep guessing."

"That's… not something I'd advocate," he said honestly, starting to move in pursuit. "Hawke…"

"Arishok," she responded simply. "We'll have to do this again some time." She cleared her throat, then added "Perhaps without the abduction in the middle of the night."

"I can make no promises," he admitted, and still he encroached upon her. He stood and crossed the room in her direction, fully intending on tearing the clothing from her again, and perhaps in not so controlled a manner as he had done previously.

"Now, now," she tutted, retreating backwards as she eyed him, "control yourself Arishok. It does not become a military leader to lose his head around women like myself." She gave him a dangerous rise of an eyebrow and a teasing smirk. "We're a terrible influence, and more often than not we lead to your downfall."


	17. Chapter 17

The compound seemed surprisingly still, and yet it was full of the Qunari when she emerged at last. She hadn't thought about any of this the previous night, or even that morning. All things considered, it wasn't as though she'd had the opportunity to decide when she'd been hauled in here like some sort of exotic carpet. She kicked at the dust a little and watched the smoky trail blow about in the small seaborne breeze, and detected the heavy steps on the Arishok as he made his presence known at her back.

Hawke didn't know what she was expecting. After the previous night she anticipated a blank stare as much as a passionate goodbye kiss, but neither seemed appropriate at the moment. There couldn't be _nothing_ , yet the very idea of him doing something was ludicrous. With the eyes of the other Qunari upon him, could he even afford such a show of affection?

And yet he'd been the one to instigate her kidnapping. Did the others know more than they were letting on? She felt she saw the duality of Qunari in just that very thought. Too proud, somehow, to keep secrets like that. Secrets were a sign of weakness and conniving spinelessness, but at the same time they were so stoic… such an unmoving people, that no word of such secrecy would ever breach those stony lips.

She lingered by his chair and waited for him to say something. Anything. Anything as long as it was something, and he didn't. Was he waiting for her to say something instead? She had no idea what she was supposed to say and didn't want to set the tone. What if she said something that would be an embarrassment to him? What if she was completely wrong, and she tried to be formal about it and hurt his feelings? Qunari did have feelings, after all. She was sure she'd felt some of his last night, and that morning. She had no compulsion to try and drive him to regret just because she misunderstood whatever… agreement they had.

"It's a… beautiful day," she commented, looking up at the pale blue sky. "It's good sailing weather."

"Do you own a ship?" the Arishok asked curiously.

"I.. no…" Hawke said quietly. It seemed such a strange thing to point out. "If I did, I wouldn't mind giving it to you. ."

"It's not the vessel we require, Hawke," he murmured. He looked distantly for a moment, then turned his head sharply at the sound of a clang. Hawke's eyes followed and locked on the gate of the compound. The commotion there was apparent almost immediately. The small group that forced their way in with their weapons drawn were seen as threats by the Qunari, who drew their own javelins and bows up to mark them as they pushed through. Hawke recognized them all immediately, but was shocked to find that she wasn't as thrilled to see them as she thought she should have been.

"Hawke!" Varric shouted, breaking from the others and rushing across the courtyard with Bianca at the ready. "You alright?"

"I'm… fine," she sighed, pushing her tongue across her upper lip as a frown formed across her forehead. "Really, Varric, I'm alright."

"Are you alright, Hawke?" Aveline asked, moving up with Varric and fixating on the Arishok. "What right do you have abducting people in the night, Arishok? The Viscount was assured-"

"I'm alright, Aveline," Hawke interrupted, trying to capture the captain's attention once again. "The Arishok and I just had to… hash out a few things. Some misunderstandings. Everything is resolved."

"Even so…" Aveline frowned, narrowing her eyes at the Qunari. "Do you make a habit of abducting people, Arishok? My guards may not appreciate knowing that disappearances throughout the city may be linked here. There is enough tension as it is."

"I am not answerable to you," the Arishok informed her with a growl and a huff. His eyes rested on the other members of the group as they came along after Aveline and Varric.

"Are you alright, Hawke?" Merrill asked eagerly. She peered out from behind Fenris' shoulder, and he seemed to be silently asking the same question.

"For the last time, yes," Hawke grumbled, looking around at everyone. "I'm standing here, aren't I? I'm fine!"

"You don't seem fine," Merrill pouted, withdrawing slightly. "You seem all grumpy and grouchy…"

"Did they do anything to you Hawke?" Anders asked from near the back. "Anything… unnatural?"

"Nothing unnatural, no," Hawke sighed, turning to face the Arishok with her head bowed slightly. "I apologize for their… energetic attitudes, Arishok," she apologized. She held her posture for a moment and silently wondered whether she could convince him to abduct her again. Somewhere else. Or to just abduct the rest of them… Surely there were enough sexually-frustrated Qunari going around that everyone could just get laid and relax?

"Is Isabella still in there?" Varric asked, looking over at the Arishok and trying to get a look at the back of the compound.

"Isabella?" Hawke asked, turning sharply. "No? Why would…?" She turned to look at the Arishok and raised an eyebrow. "Did you abduct her too?"

"No," he responded gruffly. "I had no interest in any of your… companions."

"Charming," Fenris said quietly, giving a dark look at some of the Qunari who came close. "I think that we should think about getting out of here. We've not exactly made a good impression barging our way in like this."

"It is no surprise to me that the Qun-speaking elf is the only one with a concept of his place in the world," Arishok said with a voice like a rockslide. "Indeed, he seems the only one aware of his place in this compound alone."

"We were under the impression that you were holding one of our friends hostage, Arishok," Aveline argued. "What would you do in our situation?"

"I am not in your situation, nor would I be," the Arishok decreed, moving over to take his seat at the top of the steps. "It is best if you think about leaving soon before my patience expires."

"Come on, Hawke," Varric gestured, tilting his head as he began to walk away. "We need to figure out where Rivaini has gotten herself. Last thing we need is-"

"I'll be out in a minute," Hawke interrupted. Varric paused, then walked back towards her a little.

"Everything alright?" he checked, and she felt her hand twitch slightly as the same question was asked once again. Why did everyone assume that something was wrong? No, they were right. Something _was_ wrong. She'd had a very… special night walked all over by people who seemed to think that she'd been beaten up all night and practically left for dead. Obviously they weren't worried enough to come looking for her in the middle of the night or they'd have been here hours ago.

"I'm fine, Varric," she said with a tight jaw. "Just wait for me outside, will you?"

"You got it, Hawke," the dwarf nodded, starting to wander out. She waited until the sounds of their footsteps faded away before turning to face the Arishok and feeling that connection they'd had diminished to the point of nothingness. Were they back to being two… strangers?

"Arishok," she said quietly, looking up at him in the hopes that he'd say something.

"Hawke," he nodded, blinking slowly as he leaned forwards in thought. Her mouth tightened slightly, but she refrained from saying anything rash.

"I suppose I shall see you around?" she guessed, trying to sound hopefully optimistic and positive, but feeling very delicate at the same time.

"You shall," the Arishok nodded firmly. "You're a curiosity to me. A mystery I intend to unravel." He looked at her unblinkingly, then took in a breath and distracted his eyes to the distance. "Panahedan, Hawke."

"Until next time, Arishok," Hawke smiled, barely able to contain herself as she turned and stiffly walked away, feeling the urge to just turn around and run back to him with every step that led her towards the exit. The blood pounding in her ears seemed to light up with memories of the night before, and she passed beneath the iron gate of the courtyard gate with a breathy sigh.

"Found her." Varric's voice broke her from her stupor and she swayed slightly, bracing herself against the wall. The dwarf jabbed his thumb over his shoulder, drawing Hawke's attention to Isabella who stood nearby.

"Isabella?" Hawke said, slightly dazed from the abruptness of her return to reality.

"Are you alright, Hawke?" the other woman asked with concern. Hawke's hands balled up tightly for a moment, and with great effort she unfurled the fists and gave a slightly alarming smile.

"Oh, I'm fantastic. Thanks for asking!" she said manically, starting up the steps leading into Lowtown. Isabella and Varric shared a concerned glance which was mirrored by several of the others.

"She doesn't seem alright," Merrill tutted quietly, following along with the group. "She looks like how I felt the first time I saw the Alienage."

"Hawke'll be fine, Daisy," Varric said reassuringly. "She's a tough cookie."

"Tougher than usual?" Merrill asked in surprise. "All of the ones I've tried to make are very tough. I give them to the children in the streets. They don't seem to mind."

"They throw them through windows," Fenris said with a frown.

"They do? How do you know?"

"Because I have three of them, along with shattered glass." Merrill looked at him, then gave a gasp.

"Oh, Fenris, I'm so sorry! I'll stop giving them and… and I'll find some way of fixing your windows! I'm good at doing that sort of thing!"

"Don't even worry about it, Daisy," Varric said reassuringly. "They're not even _his_ windows. It's technically not _his_ house. He's more upset that he didn't get to break them himself."

"That's not entirely untrue," Fenris admitted, tilting his head as he conceded the point. Merrill looked over at him curiously, trying to figure that one out for a moment.

"So you break things deliberately then?" she tested.

"When I feel like it," he nodded.

"But isn't that bad?" she pointed out.

"It is indeed, kitten," Isabella nodded, leaning over to give Fenris a nudge. "Someone's going to have to come over and housetrain you."

"And let me guess: You're willing to provide the leash and collar?" Fenris guessed, looking over at Isabella suspiciously.

"You wish!" she smirked. "They're _mine_. You can get your own."


	18. Chapter 18

Arishok stared blankly ahead, watching the vacant space before him as the sun slowly traveled across the sky. Wind poured into the city, wafting the scent of fish across the dry stone. He had long grown indifferent to it, and his attention was not upon where he was, but where he had been.

"Panahedan," he murmured, bringing his hand up slowly to wipe away a layer of dirt and sweat from his skin. He regarded the state of his palm with the same contempt he held for all of Kirkwall, and with a heave of a breath he turned to face Arvaarad.

"Arishok," the other Qunari acknowledged. It was hard to tell, but his voice was even more terse than usual.

"Is there something I need to hear, Arvaarad?"

"You know what I'm about to say."

"Then the answer is no, is it not?" Arishok pointed out. He had grown quickly impatient with Arvaarad's concerns of a Bas Saarebas and their supposed influence. Arvaarad attributed far too much sway to someone who was not of the Qun. If anyone was suspicious of being too involved with the savage creatures of Kirkwall, it wasn't the Arishok.

"Are you waiting for something?" Arvaarad asked after a pause. "You have been sitting here for a long time."

"I was contemplating."

"Contemplating Hawke?"

Arishok's eyes flicked to the side sharply.

"Many things," he growled. "Hawke is-"

"The entire compound is aware," Arvaarad interrupted. "We are in dangerous waters, Arishok. You have lost your sense of direction."

"Do you think that I have forgotten why we are here, Arvaarad?" Arishok challenged, rising to his feet slowly and looking down upon the smaller Qunari. "Has your respect for myself, your brothers, and yourself fallen so far as to think I relish existing in this decay?"

"I didn't say that," Arvaarad argued with an even tone, "but you are clearly still preoccupied with the Hawke, yet spoke to me of having no lingering distractions."

"It is not a distraction."

"Yet here you are, Arishok, sitting in the same place, reliving the same conversation. It is not my duty to lead our people. That role and responsibility falls to you, but you _must_ lead us, Arishok. You cannot throw aside the Qun for the Bas."

"Then I shall lead, Arvaarad, provided my commanders are obeyed," Arishok determined with a deep inhalation. "This matter with Hawke is resolved. I am dealing with it personally, and I do not require the opinions of those around me vomited into the air without warrant."

"Arishok, you know the danger of bringing demons to Par Vollen," Arvaarad sighed. "I cannot endorse this course of action… I could not ask them to permit us entry and put all of the Qun at risk."

"I am aware," Arishok growled, "but without the relic we are not going to return to Par Vollen, Arvaarad." He fixed his eyes upon the other Qunari, but there was not frustration there. He had great respect for Arvaarad, even if his strict enforcement was a collar around Arishok's neck. In all truth there seemed little difference between himself and the Saarebas themselves, except the distinction between suspicion and guilt. "I know what awaits me," he added, giving the smallest of nods as he returned to the shade within the compound.

He met the eyes of each of the Qunari that he passed, but none were so bold as to speak to him as Arvaarad did. Only when he retreated to the cool comforts of their planning table. As he took his place at the head of the table he found one of the scouts looking to him intently. It was apparent that he had something to say.

"Ashaad?"

"A problem, Arishok," the Qunari said with an exhalation. He saluted respectfully, stepping forwards as he did so. "I take responsibility."

"I will assign responsibility," Arishok corrected with dangerous look. "Give me the facts of this matter. No opinions."


	19. Chapter 19

Hawke shifted to the side, eyeing the next person that descended the steps. The sailor nudged carefully past the group, eyeing them suspiciously as he returned to the docks. He bore a slight stagger that she frowned at, and she rested her weight on the wall, sighed, then blinked slowly at Varric. He was patrolling back and forth at the base of the steps, occasionally sharing glances with the Qunari guarding the compound's entrance. Finally he came to a stop before her and released a breath of his own.

"Look, I know what you're thinking…" he prefaced, but fell silent as Hawke rose her hand slowly.

"I know. We don't have the time to waste," she frowned. She was telling herself the same thing over and over, trying to convince herself to move. She had come this far, but the next steps seemed impossible, and yet they didn't have the time nor the opportunity to waste.

The Qunari certainly didn't a reputation for their patience and generosity, after all.

"The viscount wouldn't have sent us here if it wasn't important," Varric pointed out. "Didn't he say the Arishok asked for you personally?"

A nudge at Hawke's side was Isabela's contribution. She flashed a knowing look, though Hawke hoped and prayed that her awareness of the facts didn't extend beyond the dream she had admitted to. If Isabela got wind that anything had happened…

"The Qunari are worthy of respect, not fear," Fenris commented, testing the waters. "They will not arbitrarily attack. They may need our help. This may help us to resolve matters - especially considering the kidnapping."

"Will our presence not provoke them?" Aveline asked from nearby. "Qunari I can handle, but not bulls running through the streets. This isn't Rivain."

"There are no bulls running through the streets in Rivain either," Isabela corrected her almost defensively. "We put rings in their noses and keep them on leashes, and ride them around."

She hid a smile and continued to lean against the wall casually.

"So will you be coming with us this time?" Hawke asked curiously.

"Why do you need me? You already have Aveline. Fenris. Varric." She paused and adopted a more sultry tone. " _Bianca._ " She gave a small smile at the few of them. "That's more than enough. I think things would get unnecessarily complicated if five of us go inside. They may suspect something."

"She has a point," Varric agreed. "With me and Bianca, you're in good hands."

"It doesn't mean I want to…" Hawke began, then decided to refrain from finishing the thought and shook herself slightly. She didn't want to. She was apprehensive. Her stomach was in knots, and she couldn't shake the thought of what had happened that night.

But every night since then she had been alone. He'd promised her, hadn't he? He had said that she was a mystery, and that she was intriguing. He'd made it sound like he couldn't stop himself, and that he felt what she did.

And still he didn't come.

"No, you're right," she grumbled. "Come on. We can't keep them waiting. They're already insulted enough."

She prepared to enter, but Isabela lingered.

"You go ahead - I have something I should do."

Hawke had a hard time admitting she was shocked, but that didn't stop her from rounding on the pirate suddenly.

"No time for distractions, Isabela. I have business here." Her throat felt tight, and she couldn't believe that Isabela of all people was going to just abandon her at the moment. She didn't think she was serious…

"Well, you can go right ahead," Isabela shrugged, and without another word she turned and returned into the street.

"Busy girl," Varric muttered under his breath. Hawke nodded in resignation, then gestured at Aveline, Varric and Fenris who they followed her without hesitation. Aveline led the way, levelling a sideways glance at Isabela which brimmed with disdain.

They returned to the Qunari compound, moving slowly and deliberately as they went in order to prevent another incident. The Arishok who regarded them with the same level of exhausted familiarity that he'd seemed to possess upon them leaving the last time. He waved away a Qunari and looked down at them as they approached.

Did he even recognize her? She understood that he didn't have high opinions of the others, but as his eyes fell upon her she didn't detect even the slightest of changes. His expression retained that miserable stoicism that she almost didn't recognize. When they were alone he seemed almost a different person.

"Serah Hawke?"

Her steps faltered and she felt as though a piece of her fell away at the sudden brutal bluntness of his tone. He didn't seem happy to see her. He seemed almost… amused.

"Messere?" she responded without thinking.

"When first we met I did not know your name. Did not care to. You have changed your fortune over the years. The Qunari have not."

Hawke was still reeling and barely listened to his words, and struggled to involve herself in the conversation without throwing something at him.

"I offer a courtesy, Hawke. Someone has stolen what he thinks is the formula for gaatlok."

Varric murmured something incoherent beneath his breath. Hawke didn't need to think for long. She had heard little mention of the Qunari exploding powder, but what she knew was enough. What intrigued her was his choice of words.

"Someone… thinks?" Fenris whispered over her shoulder.

"You will want to hunt him," Arishok added with a nod of affirmation.

"Sounds like the recovery should be worth something to me," Hawke suggested, crossing her arms and levelling a look at him. Two could play at this game. If he wanted to act like nothing happened, then he was going to be paying for it.

"A thousand lives," he responded without hesitation.

The suggestion threw her a little, and she swayed and tried to recover.

"I-"

"The stolen formula was a decoy," he continued without further pause. "Saar-qamek - a poison gas, not explosives."

Varric laughed a little, then quickly tried to conceal it. Fenris inhaled a weighted breath, and Aveline stepped forward slightly to look at Hawke in alarm.

"A small amount is dangerous enough to your kind," Arishok added. "But if made in quantity, perhaps by someone intending to sell it…"

"That merchant… Javaris?" she realized suddenly, finding the matter entirely too obvious. Things had gotten out of hand. Hawke was no stranger to the desperation of dwarves. Not after her experience with Bartrand. She glanced to Varric, wondering for a moment whether he was thinking of the same thing.

"Would he be cautious, or would he assume success and make enough to threaten a district?" Arishok asked, seeming to implore a response, but not for his own reassurance. "A courtesy, Hawke. You will want to hunt him."

"Any idea where we can find Javaris?" Hawke asked, turning instinctively to Varric. It wasn't that he was a dwarf, but that he knew everything. For a moment she wondered whether he may take offense, but he was already thinking hard.

"I heard about a sell-off. Merchant territories and such," he said carefully. "They don't do that unless someone left in a hurry. I'd have figured he'd rooked some noble. He's sure not a burglar."

"Just tell me where he is," Hawke frowned impatiently.

"I haven't kept up on the squirt," Varric shrugged. "Ask the Coterie."

Hawke could feel her body sagging at just the mention.

"Panahedan, Hawke," Arishok said stoically. "It will be interesting to see if you die."

Hawke stopped abruptly, and levelled a glare in the Arishok's direction.

"Varric..." she began, inhaling slowly, but he was already on it.

"Come on you two," he said, gesturing to Fenris and Aveline. "Let Hawke and the Arishok talk shop for a while. We'll wait in the street."

"I do not advocate the idea of leaving her here," Fenris admitted.

"I have to warn the guards and get on this immediately," Aveline said, running her fingers through her hair. "We have no time to lose. It may already be too late."

Hawke didn't respond. She waited until the footsteps grew distant, and her eyes didn't waver from the Arishok. Soon it was just her, him, and the Qunari, but she didn't feel they really counted.

"Interesting?" she asked dangerously.

"I assumed your friends were not aware of our activities," Arishok said unapologetically. "I did not seek to embarrass you."

"But that's the best I get?" she fumed.

"You seem to want a particular response," he noted, ever quick to speak dismissively of a topic. "It is apparent that you feel offended in some way."

"You're damn right I feel offended," she spat. "You abduct me, and what? That's it? Was all that talk just to make me feel good about myself so I'd leave?"

"I said nothing I did not mean," Arishok admitted, straightening slowly, "and I remember what I said, Hawke. I shall await your return with high expectations, but I feel I adequately stressed the importance of urgency in this matter. I was rather sincere in that aspect."

Hawke hesitated for a moment, then thought back to what he had said. He was right. There were lives at stake, and she was standing here being selfish. Being… ridiculous. She could come back any time and lay into him, and he would regret every unapologetic word he'd laid upon her.

"You'll be hearing from me soon, Arishok," she promised with an edge of vindictiveness. "I'll have your poison, and the dwarf, and you'll wish that was all I brought with me."

"The Qunari do not wish," Arishok answered. "We act."

"Oh, keep digging," she flared, levelling a glare in his direction. For a moment she thought he seemed amused, and that only infuriated her further.

"Panahedan, Hawke," he sighed, and in the silence that followed she turned sharply and marched away.


	20. Chapter 20

There had been blood shed. Arishok knew this, even before Ashaad told him.

Kirkwall was as such. There was never peace. There was always strife, whether it was man against man or man against hunger. There was suffering. It was sickening to him, and it had been for long years.

The viscount had failed his people. The Blight of Ferelden was long-passed. Arishok should have been back in Par Vollen among his own people, but instead he was relegated to this festering cyst on the coast of Free Marches.

Then again, it wasn't as though the Free Marches as a whole were any better. The whole world was infected with a sickness that they could not cure. He could cure it. He longed to bathe the world in the Qun and to bring order to its wickedness, but he could not do so without the consent of the Qun, and he could not achieve that consent without Par Vollen.

And he could not reach Par Vollen.

He expelled a long sigh, and his thoughts drifted to Hawke. She was one of the few in the world that sought to change it for the better. She had the will, and the means, and the morality. Even she was flawed, however. She was bas. She was a Saarebas. He knew what fate awaited her in the Qun. A part of him did not blame her for clutching the failed notion of 'freedom' the people of Kirkwall, The City of Chains, clung to.

The irony was bitter, but a foul taste was ever-present in his mouth and he barely noticed it.

"The one they call Hawke brought an end to it," Ashaad explained, but by the tone of voice Arishok knew that the relationship he shared with Hawke was already known.

"An end to what?"

"The matter with the saar-qamek."

"She did not," Arishok corrected. "The matter is unresolved until she informs me and I confirm it."

Ashaad paused, then gave a nod of acknowledgement.

"She sought to discredit and disgrace us, in order to preserve her people's withering culture. She took offense to the Qun."

"Hawke did?" Arishok asked quickly. Ashaad shook his head.

"The elf behind the saar-qamek release."

"They will blame us all the same…" Arishok sighed, and he relaxed a little. For a moment he had thought Hawke had turned against him, and he didn't know how that made him feel. Still, that matter subsided as he listened to the rest of the report.

"It was an elf," the scout continued.

"An elf?" Arishok repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Not the dwarf?"

"Not that I could tell."

It was unexpected news, but he didn't expect any matter such as this to be straightforward.

'And now she is dead," Arishok said simply, already having anticipated the outcome. He didn't know how Hawke reacted to such a thing, but he assumed that she had spoken a few choice words and death\ had passed over that street.

"There are likely more," Ashaad warned. "This notion of the preservation of culture is not an isolated matter. They will fight to defend their ancestry for fear of change, even if it is good change. Even if it is the Qun."

"Some have joined us," Arishok noted. "They can be persuaded, with time. Those that refuse from sheer stubbornness were never meant for the Qun."

"How many people died?" asked a small voice. The eyes of the Qunari turned to the viscount's son who stood at the edge of the table.

"People?"

"From the saar-qamek," Saemus clarified. "How many innocents?"

"Innocence is unfamiliar to me," Arishok said with a huff.

"A handful of residents died," Ashaad answered, supposing that was the boy's concern. "Others are recovering. The Chantry is making sure they are seen to be looking after those afflicted. They benefit greatly from the suffering of others."

"That comes as no surprise," Arishok admitted, glancing to Saemus. "Why does the number of dead matter?"

"Arishok, surely the less that died, the better?" the boy pointed out.

"Even a single death, unprovoked, is worthy of retribution," Arishok corrected, earning nods from around the table. "Your viscount would do better to avenge the distress of his people, rather than placating those as indifferent as himself."

"I don't think my father is indifferent," Saemus said quickly, and apologetically. "He's just-"

"He is with the city as he is with the Qunari," Arishok interrupted. "He sees fit to give us space to exist, and as long as we do not draw attention, he does not remember we are here. Only when a matter is brought to him directly does he seek to fix it."

"Is that not what any leader does?" Saemus asked.

"I attempted to resolve this matter as soon as it was brought to my attention, this is true," Arishok admitted. "But your father will see the small respite and he will allow it to overtake him, and he will do nothing further. I see the danger that lurks in those that escaped. Those who have the same intents in their hearts. My warriors will hunt them, and they will face judgement before them, or before me."

The boy seemed to reel from the suggestion and fought for words, clearly trying to subdue his emotions in order to be respectful.

"But… Is…" he struggled, but after a breath and a moment to think he steadied himself. "Is that the way of the Qun, Arishok? To execute the innocent?"

"As I have said, I am not familiar with innocence," Arishok reminded him. "I shall eliminate the threats to my people. Any who conspired with those who sought to unleash this destruction shall be removed."

Saemus clearly seemed to struggle with the matter for a moment, then consented with a tiny nod.

"If you will allow it, Arishok, I would like to be there when you pass judgement," he requested. "It would settle my mind to know that you were putting only the guilty-" He stopped short, and corrected himself as such. "Only the conspirators of this plot to death."

"I suppose you would want to defend the characters of those that did not seem to be associated," Arishok guessed, having become familiar with such trivialities in his time in the city.

"If you would permit it, I would," Saemus agreed quickly.

"And you would bear the responsibility of each person you defended?" Arishok tested. "What do you do when you protect someone, only for them to use their freedom to harm another?"

"I understand," the boy acknowledged, "but I must at least be there and see whether any such person is among those you bring here. I cannot be inactive as my father is. I will do what I can to ensure we do the right thing."

"We do what is required of us by the Qun." Arishok's words were not meant to tear down the boy's confidence, and indeed Saemus seemed to understand that much. He said nothing further, taking the conversation as Arishok's permission to be involved with the trials.

"Arishok," Arvaarad alerted from the doorway, saluting as he entered. "The one they call Hawke is here."

"I see," Arishok breathed, and without another word he moved towards the door and made his way towards the compound. Arvaarad was with him, and soon they were beyond the ears of the other Qunari.

"I sense distrust in you, Arishok," Arvaarad admitted.

"It is a healthy wariness."

"Among your own people?"

Arishok turned to regard the smaller Qunari.

"Is it wariness of me, Arishok?" Arvaarad pressed, slowing the pace of his steps.

"You have a duty to fulfil, Arvaarad," Arishok admitted. "You must protect the Qun. I also have my duty. I must retrieve the relic we were promised."

"But you know what I must do," Arvaarad pointed out. "There can be no-"

"Were I to place myself above the Qun, I would have seen you killed a long time ago," Arishok said quickly. "But I am not above the Qun. I understand its teachings."

"I see," Arvaarad whispered. He followed Arishok for a few steps, then cleared his throat. "If you have no intent of returning-"

"I have every intent of returning Par Vollen," Arishok corrected. "If that is the will of the Qun, it shall be done."

Arvaarad paused, then softened his tone slightly.

"If you suspect one outcome over all others, perhaps it is worthwhile satisfying your curiosities with Hawke before we depart," he offered. "The females here are not familiar with our ways. If you require privacy-"

"I shall ask for it if I desire it," Arishok determined.

They suddenly emerged through thick hanging rags into cold sunlight, and Arishok almost immediately spotted an impatient woman standing at the base of his steps. The supposedly-witty dwarf was by her side, as were one of Kirkwall's guards and one of the elves from the Alienage.

"So, I was wrong about our thief," he detailed, doubting that she was here to talk about anything else. He still recalled her frustration from earlier, but though he felt compelled to find a balance, it wasn't that easy.

"It appears so," Hawke agreed. There was an unmistakable smugness to her tone at his admission.

"They say we were careless with our trap, that this is our fault, but even without the saar-qamek there would have been death," he warned. "This elf was determined to lay blame at our feet."

He glanced to Hawke's elven companion pointedly, suspecting her of no less than the same until he knew better.

"But your feet didn't do anything wrong… did they?" the elf asked. She was sincere… and that only served to draw Arishok's ire, but his suspicions about her capacity for malice were quickly extinguished.

His eyes fixed upon Hawke, and he recalled what had been said. Hawke was not of the Qun, but she clearly saw fault in Kirkwall. She was not beyond redemption.

"Selfishness, want, denial - how do you allow this to continue?" he tested.

She didn't seem to take kindly to the question.

"If you dislike Kirkwall so much, why haven't you left?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Since we have arrived I have seen nothing but greed and weakness," Arishok breathed. "Dwarves, humans, elves - just… festering. No order, no goal. You are one of the few I have met with any ability. And yet this too was random, a result of selfishness."

The dwarven merchant, causing problems with his lust for scraps of metal.

"I cannot fathom how a mire like this can be justified," he continued, gesturing to the suffering city around him. "You say we should leave, but how can you bear to stay in this… chaos?"

He spat the final word venomously.

"I agree, it's a mess," Hawke sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"But you don't see that as a problem?" he pressed. He could detect an opening and wasn't shy about taking it and using it to his advantage. His concern were the friends she was surrounded with, but he could separate them from Hawke if needed.

"I see it as an opportunity," Hawke admitted, lifting her head suddenly, "and I intend to take full advantage."

It was surprising to hear, and Arishok had to admit he hadn't considered Kirkwall as a trial by fire - merely a trial of patience.

"Karasten are soldiers," he informed her, rising to his feet and directing her attention to a nearby warrior. "The Qun made it so. They can never vary from that assigned path, never be other as they were meant to be."

He could see almost immediately that she wasn't seeing where he was going.

"They are free to choose within that role. To succeed, or deny and die. Glory is clear and defined. It is an undeniable certainty," he proclaimed, drawing the attention of the Qunari around him. "What 'full advantage' can you take without that authority?"

"He's free to choose to obey?" Hawke asked sharply. "That isn't contradictory to you?"

It was not.

"He chooses to be," Arishok sighed. "As do we all, long before any of your meaningless freedoms are presented."

He was trying to get a point across, but he wasn't sure whether she was being deliberately resistant to the message, or whether she merely couldn't comprehend it. He took a moment to consider what he was trying to convey as he returned to his seat.

"Your kind may force our role to change if the Qun demands," he said finally, feeling that it conveyed his contempt for Kirkwall, and not her.

"She was angry to see her people losing their culture by claiming yours," Hawke explained. Arishok didn't really understand the point she was trying to make.

"We accept those who submit to the Qun," he explained, hiding a flash in his eyes as a memory danced through his thoughts. "The weak naturally seek the strong. It doesn't matter. We did not come equipped to indoctrinate. I am here to satisfy a demand you cannot understand."

Hawke hesitated for just a moment, then raised an eyebrow.

"It's been a long time," she said, almost suspiciously.

Arishok understood the duality of the statement, and though he felt compelled to acknowledge their private moment, there was a more severe matter before them.

"It will take as long as needed," he detailed. "No ship is coming. There is no rescue from duty to the Qun."

His eyes fixed on her, and after a few breaths he leaned back and expelled a hot breath.

"I am stuck here."

He anticipated the reaction before he even voiced the words. Arvaarad shifted nearby, but did not speak. He knew his place.

"You-" Hawke began, but a small nudge at her side from the dwarf silenced her. Arishok detected the tone, and as he stared he could see the clenched hand of frustration. She silenced herself for a moment, then inhaled deeply. "That is not the understanding of the city leaders and their… supporters," she reminded him in a falsely-even tone.

"Let them rot," Arishok spat, casting his dark gaze across the walls as he spoke. "Filth stole from us. Not now, not the saar-qamek. Years ago."

Just the memory was enough to stir fury within him, and he clenched his own fist. It shook as he relived the moment of humiliation and insult. He almost forgot Hawke was standing before him as he rose to his feet.

"A simple act of greed has bound me. We are all denied Par Vollen until I alone recover what was lost under my command! That is why the elf and her shadows are unimportant. That is why I do not simply walk away from this pustule of a city. Fixing your mess is not the demand of the Qun. And you should all be grateful!"

He was bellowing before he even realized he was doing it, and as his vision returned he realized that he was not speaking with the viscount, or his infuriating underlings, but with the one person who perhaps understood it… and who did not deserve his fury. He fell silent, feeling Hawke's eyes upon him. She concealed her emotions well, and he turned wearily and slipped into his seat with a thud.

"Thank you, Hawke, for your service. Leave," he warned, trying to keep himself under control. The words were sharp, but they were only words, and his body felt compelled towards action. Action that would have resulted in death as surely as the matter with the saar-qamek.

"That's an oxman ready to charge," he heard the dwarf whisper. Clearly he was not aware of how well his voice echoed from the walls in the silence that descended upon the compound. "The viscount should know."

Arishok closed his eyes and sighed, and as he opened them again he realized that Hawke was already moving. His knuckles cracked as he tightened his hand into a fist again, and as their guests departed he looked to Arvaarad tiredly.

"That was not as I intended," Arishok admitted.

"I am sure," Arvaarad agreed, glancing out over the empty area, "but it may improve your mood to know that your behaviour lessened my suspicions about you and the bas-Saarebas. You were almost back to your old self, before all this wretchedness took hold."

"They wish demands," Arishok breathed, half-ignoring the other Qunari as he stared distantly. "I will make them."


	21. Chapter 21

Hawke eyed the drink in front of her tiredly. She didn't know how long she'd been here, or how many she'd been through so far. She had a small pile on the corner of the table at one point, but Norah kept wandering over and taking them away from her.

"It's getting late," Fenris pointed out, suddenly drawing her attention to him.

"It's past midnight," Varric corrected. "If anything, it's early."

Merrill slumped a little, resting her head in her hand and balancing precariously on the edge of the table. It wasn't apparent whether she was drunk or exhausted. It was probably a mixture of both.

"I think it's probably best if we all go home soon," Anders suggested, using the edge of his staff to carefully press Merrill's elbow further onto the table and away from the edge. The Dalish elf stirred a little, then sighed and settled. Isabela reached over carefully and drew Merrill against her, patting her gently.

"As much fun as it is to disagree with you, it seems so," the pirate tutted. "You're going to help me get kitten back to the Alienage, I assume?"

"I will too," Fenris volunteered. "I mean no offense, but none of you are really all that tough."

"Excuse me?" Aveline asked, directing a completely sober glare in his direction.

"Them," Fenris gestured, directing her to Merrill, Anders and Isabela. "Two mages and a…" He eyed Isabela for a moment, then cleared his throat as he took another drink. "Woman."

"Am I not a woman, now?" Aveline challenged, crossing her arms threateningly.

"I-"

"And what about Hawke?" the captain added, glancing over at her to make the point.

"You know that's not what I meant, Aveline," Fenris sighed, rubbing up and down the bridge of his nose. The silver lyrium markings on his face flickered in the candle light. "Isabela is just more-"

"He means I'm pretty," Isabela said unapologetically, smiling broadly across the table. "I'm a woman, Aveline. I seem dainty and precious and fragile."

"You're a pirate," Aveline spat bluntly.

"Yes, but I know how to 'seem'," Isabela smirked, flourishing her hair a little as she petted Merrill. "Come on, Fenris. It's late, and we need a big, strong elf like yourself to protect us little ladies at this late hour."

Anders cleared his throat loudly, though Isabela deliberately didn't seem to notice.

"I don't mean to offend your masculinity," Fenris apologized, anticipating Anders' concerns. "After what Hawke told me about the templars, I would think it rather foolish to get on your bad side."

"Ah, I see," Anders frowned. "I'm just another dangerous apostate mage, aren't I?"

"I didn't-"

"Like all Tevinters, you-"

"How dare you compare me to the Tevinters?" Fenris demanded, rising to his feet and flaring with a sudden surge of lyrium-infused power. Anders was up too, brimming with the power of the demon of Justice within him, and the power of the two squaring off against one another sent a sudden blast of air throughout the Hanged Man. Patrons gasped in shock, fleeing backwards, and Hawke raised her eyes slowly and looked tiredly between the pair.

A wooden bolt sped through the air, splintering the table between the pair. Fenris and Anders slowly turned to regard the dwarf standing on the staircase, and Bianca glared at them fiercely.

"Sit down," Aveline spat. Her sword was half-drawn, but with a ringing of metal she pressed it back into her scabbard and stood between them, bringing her gauntlet across each of them with a backhand. "No, get out. Go home, both of you. I'll make sure Merrill gets home."

Fenris and Anders were wordless, but as Isabela helped to pass the unconscious Dalish elf to Aveline she couldn't help but drape herself across the guard's shoulders.

"Oh, my hero," the pirate teased, sighing in a dramatic fashion.

Aveline's words were few, but her underlying glare conveyed her opinion rather succinctly, as did the shrug of her shoulder to remove herself of the pirate.

"Spare me."

"Go on," Varric directed, shrugging his head at the doorway. He was still fixated on Anders and Fenris who looked ready to go at one another at a moment's notice, but with a huff Fenris seized a bottle from the bar and stormed out in the direction of Hightown. Anders lingered for a moment, and after casting an apologetic glance among the others he also departed.

"I'll be back after I get Merrill home," Aveline offered, and she lifted the lithe elf with ease and carried her off, and Isabela shot Hawke a wink as she gave pursuit, presumably to incite more reactions from Aveline. Hawke didn't expect she would see Isabela again, but she had trouble focusing and soon forgot the last lingering look of the pirate on her way out.

"You okay there, Hawke?" Varric asked, moving over to the table and inspecting the few drinks left standing. Norah came over and began clearing away, and the dwarf slipped a few coins across the table in her direction. "My apologies. My friends are mean drunks."

"I'm fine, Varric," Hawke sighed, sliding her elbow across the table a little further. "I should go. I'm sure Mother is getting worried."

"You're a big girl, Hawke. She knows that," he said supportively. "You can stay here tonight if you want. I'd understand if you wanted to take a break. Between the Qunari, and the mess with the DuPuis estate…"

"And Anders, and the templars," Hawke added with a groan.

"Yes, and that," Varric agreed quickly. "Come on Hawke. I think you can afford one night on the town. My treat."

"Thanks, Varric," Hawke sighed, pushing her way to her feet. "I appreciate it. I really do. I just need a chance to walk off some of my frustrations and…" She inhaled deeply, then swayed a little and braced herself with her staff.

"Bianca and I wouldn't mind giving you the escort, Hawke…"

"I'll be fine, Varric. Who's left?" Hawke asked with a small laugh. "Tal'vashoth? They're dead. Elf rebels? We killed them too. Gang members. Coterie. Who is there?"

"Well, I've heard that there's a Qunari assassin on the loose, but-"

"Oh fine, Varric. If you're going to make things up…"

"Hawke, am I the sort of person to just make something up?"

"I've heard the sorts of embellishments you give when you talk about Bianca," Hawke pointed out, and with a great deal of effort she focused her gaze on him. "I'm standing right next to you when we fight, Varric. I can hear the sorts of things you say."

"You don't know what's true and what's not, Hawke," Varric argued defensively, but as he looked over his drunken friend he realized that debating the matter wasn't a good idea. He reached over and patted her gently on the back. "You know what? We'll talk about it in the morning. Come on. Let's get you-"

"I'm going, Varric. I need to sleep."

"Yeah… Be careful, Hawke, okay?"

"Aren't I always?" she asked. She headed out, tripping in the doorway, stumbling into the street, but she didn't think twice about it. The light of the Hanged Man enticed patrons like moths to flame, but the streets quickly emptied as she headed in the direction of Hightown. A cold wind filled the night air, stirring up the dust and sand at her feet. Shouts of revelry faded away until the only sounds were the sharp clicks of Hawke's wooden staff on the stone steps.

A shuffling sound followed her, but when she stopped and looked around there was only an unnerving silence. She couldn't see very far in the darkness, but in an instant her hand flourished with light and illuminated her surroundings. She peered around the street for a long moment, then took a careful step onwards. She turned around, focusing on the stairs before her, then stopped abruptly.

A whisper echoed up the street, and she spun around abruptly.

"Varric?"

No one answered. It didn't sit well with Hawke, and she gripped her stomach and staggered to the side a little as anxiety and alcohol overtook her. She breathed heavily against the wall for a moment, shaking as she fought with her body, but other than hot exhalations nothing seemed to happen. She straightened up and hurried up a few more steps, and as she reached the top she glanced around suspiciously.

Something moved in the distance. Was that a person?

"Who's there?" she demanded, but no one answered. What had Varric been saying? Qunari assassins? Would the Arishok do that? Or what if it was someone else? Maybe there were members of the Coterie, or another group, who were still looking for revenge after what Hawke had done.

She turned and rushed quickly in the direction of Hightown, blindly moving from street to street. When she ran the pursuit picked up. They were practically at her heels. When she stopped she heard nothing but silence, and no one was there. Not even any guards, which Hawke always saw as a sign that she was about to be ambushed by someone.

"This is ridiculous," she mumbled to herself, finding herself turning in tight circles as every shadow and every sound became a threat. She barely kept herself on her feet, and even then only because her staff supported her. Her free hand stretched out, threatening to unleash a spell upon the first thing that came upon her. The creatures in the shadows were there. She could almost see them, but they kept to the shadows.

She turned sharply once again, slamming into something and rebounding with a gasp. It took her a moment to realize that she was staring at a door, and a bolt slowly drew backwards. Blinding golden light engulfed her, and she threw her hands up to protect her eyes as a voice echoed from within.

"Enchantment?"

"Sandal?"

Hawke rushed forwards, bursting into her own home and slamming the door closed in her wake. She awkwardly forced the bolt across with all her strength, gasping as Bodahn came rushing in.

"What's going on?" His eyes fell upon Hawke and he gasped. "Messere! Oh, Sandal, my boy, get some water! Oh, messere, let me help you! Were you attacked?"

"There was-" Hawke began, but she suddenly gathered control of herself and dismissed his concerns. "I'm fine, Bodahn, really I am. I'm just going to bed. It's been a… Well, it's been a night. Is mother already asleep?"

"Your mother is still out, messere," Bodahn admitted. "She-"

"Oh, then she's not worrying about me?" Hawke asked, staggering past the fireplace and ascending the staircase with a great amount of effort. If her mother wasn't in, then there was every chance that she could get into bed before her mother even got home. She wasn't a full-grown woman at the moment, but a child struggling to ascend the stairs, afraid of her mother's chiding tone.

She had never really done it alone. Bethany and Carver were both ever-present at her side. Then it had been just Carver. Now Hawke was alone.

She reached the top of the stairs and sprawled out across the floor, groaning and sighing in pain that came from some deep recess of her being. She lay unmoving, with her arms around her body, until eventually the ache passed and she was able to fight to her knees and slowly creep her way to her bedroom. She pushed the door weakly, using it to get to her feet, and with a deep breath and all the effort she had left she made it from the door to her bed and crashed upon the sheets with a gasp.

Her fists scrunched into the blankets and she shook silently, lost somewhere in rage, or loss, or fear, or something else she couldn't describe. Her mind was past the point of exhaustion, and it would take very little more to push her past the edge. Her friends were at each other's throats, and what was left of her family was so splintered that she had no hope of them getting back together.

Ever since Lothering it was just one thing after another. One devastation after another.

"Serah?" came a voice, and Hawke gasped and rolled suddenly, finding herself striking the floor with a sudden force. She scrambled to the wall, then breathed a sigh of relief when she realized it was just the viscount's son.

"Saemus?"

"I'm sorry to intrude upon you like this, Serah," he apologized, holding up his hands to show that he was unarmed. "The Qunari said that there was a passage beneath this house that ran into Kirkwall's lowest levels. They suggested I use it to avoid suspicion."

"The Qunari?" Hawke asked. Her head spun a little.

"The Arishok wished to speak with you privately, and trusted me with this duty under a solemn oath," he explained, clearly bearing some pride in the matter. "He asked you to come at your earliest convenience, but thought it best if you were not abducted as you were the last time. It was believed that may be a little-"

"That tunnel is still open?" Hawke asked in utter shock. "Which idiot did I put in charge of making sure it was sealed?"

Saemus fell silent, and looked to her apologetically without any idea of how to proceed.

The answer came almost too suddenly.

"It was Sandal, wasn't it?" she groaned.


	22. Chapter 22

The cellar was a small space consisting of numerous rooms leading into Darktown.

This evening it was filled with an unusual number of Qunari.

Arishok glanced at the stairwell, then leaned back and disappeared out of sight again. He flexed his hand, waiting with a sense of apprehension for what was to come. Saemus was perhaps the least qualified person for the task Arishok had assigned him, but he was perhaps the only one that Hawke trusted. The cellar was an idea proposed by some of the newer converts to the Qun, and it seemed perfect for what they needed it for.

The entrance in Darktown left something to be desired, but he had long abandoned his desire to have things go as planned. The converts cleared the way, and the Arishok progressed when there were no eyes upon him. To those in the viscount's company, it was as though the Qunari had never left the compound they had been relegated to.

Voices at the edge of the hallway caught his attention, and the gazes of every Qunari fell upon the narrow hallway leading into the house. A tiny flicker of golden light appeared, growing steadily as two figures stepped into the cellar. Arishok rose to his feet, stepping into the room to join the new arrivals.

Hawke's eyes fell upon him, and in just a moment he read every emotion that flashed upon her face.

"So this is where you're staying now, is it?" Hawke asked, crossing her arms over her chest and looking throughout the room at the sea of Qunari eyes. "Did they finally kick you out after not paying your rent?"

She was slurring. She was clearly intoxicated.

"Hawke," Arishok breathed, and with a wave of his hand he dismissed Saemus. The viscount's son gave a small bow of respect, and he joined the remainder of the Qunari in silently departing, leaving the room to just the two of them. Once they were alone Arishok settled a little and rolled his shoulders. "It is good to see you again."

"Oh, are you going to yell at me again?" Hawke asked. She tried to lean against a nearby wooden post, but she slipped and almost fell to the ground, only recovering at the last second. "After all-"

"I came to apologize," he said bluntly, and Hawke almost fell again.

"You…?" she blinked, doubting her inebriated senses. "Apologize?"

"Your efforts in bringing resolution, as well as protecting the Qun, is appreciated," Arishok explained, stepping a little closer. "I was frustrated by the iniquity within this city, and you were the one that suffered the brunt of my anger. It was misdirected. I apologize."

"An apology from the Arishok himself?" Hawke asked in disbelief, and there was an apparent level of aggression to her tone that he supposed he should have expected. "Well I'm stunned. I thought the next time we met you'd be out for my blood, as well as the rest of the city."

"You have a right to be upset," he acknowledged. "I was furious over the relic we lost. I-"

"It's not about that!" Hawke shouted suddenly, stepping forwards with fire in her eyes. "It wasn't about that! It was at first, a little, but right now it's about you telling me that you were still interested in me, and then nothing! And now what? You want to drag me into the cellar just so you can apologize for shouting?"

Arishok didn't answer. He knew how to stand his ground and wait for an opportunity.

"All I've waited for is for you to say something," Hawke expelled, turning to press her forehead against the wooden post. "Something, Arishok. Anything! I would have taken another home invasion by the Qunari if they dragged me back to you, because at least then I'd know that you wanted me to be there!"

"Hawke-"

"Instead you seemed quite content to tell me what I wanted to hear, and then what? I'm just some mercenary that you can pull in for your jobs, and you know I won't say no?"

"I didn't-"

"I have too much self respect for that sort of thing!" she continued, jabbing a finger in his direction. "You may not think that I'm worth anything. I'm not 'of the Qun' or whatever you call it, and I don't care. Frankly I think I'm better than any Qunari woman you've come across, because I'm here and they're off in… wherever you came from."

"Par Vollen."

"I didn't ask you for your opinion," she spat back, swaying a little. "I'm here, and I actually want to be with you, and it's been three years and where are they?"

"They are not here," he admitted, already resigned to his role as spectator to the conversation.

"They're not here," Hawke seemed to agree, though it was evidently her idea. "They're off in… wherever they are…"

"Par Vollen."

"They're not here, and they don't love you like I do, but obviously you don't have love in the Qun because if you did you would at least understand how I feel, and pity me enough to not play with my emotions."

"Kadan, Hawke."

There was a pause, and Hawke seemed to recoil a little before half-concealing herself behind the post and looking away.

"I don't know who that is," she huffed, "but whoever she is, she sounds hideous. I hope you two are very happy together."

"In Qunlat, Kadan refers to those we cherish and hold dear," he explained, relieved to finally have a voice again. "It means 'where the heart lies', and you are kadan to me, Hawke."

She didn't know what to say, but that quickly passed as he clarified the phrase.

"It also means 'center of the chest'," he explained. "I don't want you to be confused."

"Then what exactly are you calling me?" she checked.

"You're where my heart lies, Hawke," he said in a barely-audible whisper. "I did not distance myself from you out of some desire to cause you pain. It was not my intention."

"Then what was your intention?" she sighed. She wasn't even sure whether she wanted to hear the answer to that.

"My original intent was to retrieve you the moment I could," Arishok admitted. "Do you think it was easy for me to part with you that morning? To let you go back into that rat-infested city and to mingle with the worthless scum within it?"

"You didn't stop me," she argued.

"I had no opportunity to. Your friends were here attempting to incite an incident, and ever since that moment I have had nothing but problems in regards to this city, and their treatment of my people."

"But…" Hawke began, but she fell silent and seemed to be very slowly formulating an argument, though she was struggling to make her point. "But… it's not fair."

He stepped forwards, and before she could move he framed her shoulders with his large hands, holding her in place before him. She looked up to him, her eyes shimmering in the low light.

"This whole affair is a mess, Hawke, and it will not end well one way or another unless I can somehow retrieve the relic and satisfy the demands of the Qun. I have not had the opportunity to spend time with you as I desired. There are questions that I still seek the answer to."

"Questions?" Hawke asked hopefully.

Arishok didn't answer verbally. He leaned down slightly, carefully drawing his lips upon hers. It was different to the last time they had met. This time she had every opportunity to leave, no longer constrained as other saarebas were, but she held firm. After a pause she relaxed, and her arms came up to wrap around his broad neck, clinging to him tightly.

"I didn't want to believe it," she whispered, separating briefly and resting against his collarbone. "I was afraid that I was right, but I didn't want to find out for certain in case…"

She didn't finish her thought. She didn't dare to, and he leaned across and silenced her a second later regardless.

"Come back with me, Hawke, and I will finish what we began. Come back with me and allow me to plead my case, and to show you how I feel."

"I'm… not sure," Hawke whispered, averting her eyes warily.

"Hawke," Arishok sighed, drawing his thumb across her cheek. "Kadan. Give me this chance."


	23. Chapter 23

Hawke didn't know what happened. One moment she was staring into Arishok's eyes, and a million thoughts were swirling through her mind. Then it all vanished. His arms surrounded her, sweeping her away from the cellar, and her mind was plunged into a weightless void.

His lips tore all of the world away from her, and she shivered and sheltered in his warmth.

A finger brushed across her cheek, then ran through her hair. She scratched her fingernails across the back of his neck, gasped as she was lifted off her feet, and sighed as she felt herself pressed down across something. She didn't know what came over her as his hands moved down across her clothing, and his lips smoothed across the soft skin at her neck. One moment she was revelling in the moment, and the next her hand had swung out and caught him squarely across the jaw.

He recoiled backwards a little, but she hardly noticed. Her hand clutched her wrist and she hissed beneath her breath.

"What the hell are you made of?" she asked, biting down on her lip in an attempt to subdue the pain. "Maker's breath, that hurts!"

"The saarebas are often physically weaker than our other warriors, but you bas are altogether much frailer," Arishok said. He seeme to be balanced on a fine line somewhere between annoyance and regret. He clearly found her angry outburst to be as frustrating as it was concerning. "You should not have struck me in the first place," he advised, tilting his head slightly. "All the same, perhaps you are entitled to your catharsis."

"I need a stick," Hawke complained, looking around briefly, but seeing nothing readily available. She siphoned out another long breath at that. "I'm not hitting you to make me feel better," she explained quietly. Her arm lashed out again, catching him against the shoulder. "Okay… fine, maybe it does a little."

"Hawke-"

"Just be quiet!" she interrupted quickly, pressing her fingers against the bridge of her nose. "Just... "

"Kadan…"

Her soul felt tugged forwards by several feet at the single word, and the tone, and she melted slightly. She didn't know what it was, and really she didn't care. Her hand shook and rested against the edge of the crate she was braced against, inhaling one breath after another to stabilize herself.

She didn't know whether it was the alcohol, or some strange Qunari indoctrination technique, or something else entirely, but she could only identify one situation where she had felt so wholly complete.

Her hand struck him again, but it lacked any of the force as the first one. Arishok continued to look at her in an effort to decipher her intentions and she raised a challenging eyebrow at him.

"Are you going to just let your woman do that to you?" she tested, fixing her eyes on him. "Great and mighty Arishok, afraid to fight back?"

Her skin was on fire and her eyes felt as though they were shaking. Her peripheral vision faded to black, and in just seconds there was only him. Her hand flung out again, seemingly of its own accord. Words left her mouth, but she didn't hear them. Still he stared, building a hunger within her that she couldn't truly name, and her hand struck out a third time.

Her breath hitched as his hand snared her wrist, and she gasped as his fist forced her arm down against the crate. He leaned in, but her legs pulled up and pressed back against his chest, preventing him from getting too close. She forced him back for a moment with all the strength her thighs had, but his other hand moved to intervene. His fingers slid between her legs and her cheeks burned, and a soft sigh passed her lips as his fingers wrapped around her leg and pulled it to the side. The weight of his body was too much for her right leg by itself, and first it bent at the knee, then failed her entirely as it slipped to the side.

His body was against hers all too suddenly, and the wooden storage container beneath them creaked and shifted a little at the weight. She held her breath in anticipation, but nothing came of his sudden advance.

She waited, breathing heavily, but after a few seconds it was apparent that he thought he had the upper hand, and she was absolutely not satisfied with their little competition with one another. Her free hand struck out, spreading flame at the fingertips, and the brightness and ferocity of the magic forced him backwards. His hand retained a hold on her leg, however, and she gave a small shout of surprise as she was dragged to the edge of the crate.

"What was that, Hawke?" Arishok asked, releasing her as he brushed away the burning embers.

"Afraid of a frail little bas like me?" she taunted. She pulled herself up and watched him like a predator. "Don't call me 'Hawke' when it's just me and you. I'm sick of everyone calling me 'Hawke' like I'm some damn spectacle. When it's just me and you, I want you to use the word you used before. The…"

She snapped her fingers, trying to recall it, but her mind was drawing a blank. Her moment of distraction gave him every opportunity to get the jump on her, and he took the opportunity without pause. The first she knew about it was when she was dragged by the hem of her robes towards him. She felt her spine chill at the sound of tearing fabric, and her skin tingled as the gold-threaded fabric slipped down her skin. The cool air of the cellar struck her, but it ignited the desire to fight and she pulled away.

"I'm not going to be that easy," she warned. He didn't seem to be intimidated by it.

His fingers were upon her body once again, tearing away the last few strips of clothing from her body, removing the only remains of the robe she'd retrieved on her expedition into the Deep Roads. For a moment the thought crossed her mind that she would need another robe deserving of a mage of her caliber.

The next moment her mind went blank, and she felt the air forced from her lungs as he grabbed her and pressed her against the nearby wall. Her fingers fought to find something to hold onto, but they could only press into her palms as his lips pushed along her neck and along her bare collarbone.

"Kadan," he whispered, drawing his fingers along her sides. The ticklish sensation caused her to twist briefly, but her attempt at responding were met with stiff resistance as his fingers wrapped around her throat. She gripped his large fist, trying to pry him off her, but his hold was iron and unyielding. She watched him intently, but he steadily raised her up and she felt her legs flail in the air a little as she left the ground behind.

Without warning his fingers pressed upon her thigh, and an instant later they had separated her legs and moved in against the hot, wet area that was now exposed. A groan escaped her throat and her hands fought for just another moment, and her feet attempted to push him back, but he stole the breath from her by squeezing her throat and forcing his other hand further against her. She shivered and twisted as his fingers worked against her, and a sigh of longing slipped free as they pushed into her.

Her legs weren't trying to escape him or push him away any longer, but instead were wrapped his thick arm and trying to pull him further against him. She fixed her attention upon him, and was vaguely aware of his eyes drifting across something on the wall next to her. She was able to just barely twist to see what had his attention. A long coil of rope was wrapped around the wooden support, and she was sure she had an idea of what was going through his mind.

"Oh, you need ropes to handle me?" she checked. It earned her more strangulation, and his fingers moved just a little further into her. A smile broke out across her face, and her hips shifted to try to take advantage.

"I was merely remembering," he answered, and his fingers began to slide out once again. The sensation caused her eyes to slip closed. "I do not need them to subdue you, Kadan. I can handle you perfectly well."

His hand didn't return. In the moment that Hawke had to gather her thoughts she tried with renewed vigour to wrestle herself free and push away from the wall. It was a worthy effort, or so she believed, but as much as she strained she couldn't break his grip.

"Case in point," he mused, stroking his hand up her thigh once again.

She didn't have an answer for him. Her mind was single-mindedly focused on the very slow progress of his hand as it progressed up her leg, and then down again, and though he teased her he didn't give her what she wanted. He didn't return back up as far as he had before, and she whined desperately.

For a moment she thought he was going to take pity on her, but just as his fingers were about to brush against her they disappeared into thin air. Her fingers followed his arm and tried to seize something else, but she couldn't reach far enough to do anything other than pull at his elbow. He hummed in amusement at the futility of her actions, then without warning forced her leg up at the knee. She made a small sound of surprise, but it was strained by his hold on her neck, and replaced almost instantly by a small cry as his body pushed into hers.

He drove in much further than his fingers had ever explored, sliding completely into her and forcing a long moan of pleasure from her lips. She fell limp for a moment, hanging in place and taking in the full sensation, but before she recovered from it he shifted against her and drew back, then pressed back in once again.

Her eyes slipped closed once again, and she felt as though she could drift off to sleep and be perfectly happy. He drew back once again, then pressed in, and though she reveled in the way his body felt inside her, it wasn't followed by more.

Her eyes opened slowly, and he found him watching her silently.

"What is it?" she whispered, suddenly feeling some concern.

"I expected more of a fight out of you, Kadan," he smirked. It took her just a moment, but she riled up very quickly and struck at whatever she could reach.

"Fight you?" she spat.

His body withdrew, then penetrated her roughly. She felt herself squeezed between him and the wall, and an electrical sensation spread across her skin. She clenched her fists tightly, but his movements were already slowing and she suspected she knew why.

She beat against his arm, and he pushed into her deeper.

She tried to twist away, and he pounded harder.

She tried her best to fight in every way. She beat at him with her fists, wrenched her body in every direction she could find, and did her best to heave herself away from the wall. His response was only to tighten his hold on her, and he slid against her faster and faster.

Soon she didn't know what she was doing. She was trying frantically to get away from the very touches he forced upon her, knowing that if only she could get away she could get exactly what it was she wanted. She pulled hard at his hand, and tried to gain leverage with her free leg, but none of it worked.

He was driving her crazy, and she was struggling to keep her thoughts straight. She didn't know what happened, but all of a sudden she felt herself slip over the edge and she almost blacked out. Her hands burned, and when she recovered she felt herself sliding down against the floor as she was released. She was vaguely aware of the magic that she had used, but as she staggered forwards she knew he wasn't there.

"Arishok?" she whispered, reaching out for him, but he wasn't there.

A momentary panic settled over her, but before she could say anything else she felt a hand in her hair. He pushed her forwards and she gasped as she was forced over something, and he was close behind, entering her again. He was rougher and moved faster, and the sounds he drew from her were more frantic and breathless.

"Don't slow down," she pleaded, shifting her hips back against him, "or I may have to burn you again…"

A throaty sound came from him, and he drove against her harder. She tried to reach back threateningly, but his free hand seized one arm, then the other, and in his larger grip he pinned both against the middle of her back. She tugged for just a few moments, then surrendered and gave him the control he so clearly wanted.

He took full advantage, pulling her hair and forcing her face up. Her breaths of desire were passed into the air, echoing in the cellar around them, and he tightened his hold on her and thrusted harder and harder.

When he suddenly stopped she felt him finish. A warmth flooded her, and she shook from the pleasure. Her legs stretched out, hanging just inches from the ground from the way he pressed against her, and her toes gently returned to the ground as he backed away a little.

"Arishok, that was-"

She was interrupted by his hand pulling on her hair, and his hips pushed back against her, forcing her from the ground again. She shivered with delight, trying to turn back to face him. It was hard to see, but she didn't need to. After just a moment he began to move again and she let her eyes close.

"Yes! Don't stop," she gasped, feeling her body shake with want. "Never stop!"

"Or what?" he demanded. He pressed against her slowly, and just the threat was enough to make her hands burn with light.

"Or I'm going to take that rope, Arishok, and I'll strap you down, and-"

The rest of her threat was lost as he suddenly sped up again, driving her hips against the corner of the surface she was rested upon. She soon forgot it anyway, and let herself be lost to the moment. This was what she wanted. This was all she wanted. Her time together with him, and she knew he felt the same. Somehow she just knew.

"I love you," she whispered as he filled her, shaking expelling the words in a gasp. She repeated the mantra every time his hips met hers. "I love you… I love you…"


	24. Chapter 24

Arishok sat silently, breathing in the cool, dust-laden air each time.

Several days had passed since his midnight rendezvous with Hawke beneath her home. Long days that were made bearable only through the occasional visits she paid him, and even they were scarcely enough to lift his spirits. It was not a tediousness that grasped him, but anticipation of a terrible event that was upon the horizon.

As a warrior he had become familiar with the taste of the eve of battle. Before the bloodshed, and before the death and the suffering, there was a definite change. An intensity met his lips. Water had a taste to it. Everything was more succulent. His appetite was vastly more noticeable, and nothing escaped his eyes. His sleep was not restful, but during the day he did not tire.

At least not at first.

The perpetuity was truly the thing that began to drive at him, burrowing beneath his skin like a worm. The eve of battle replayed every single day, over and over. Each day ended with the steady calm of night settling upon it, and each day the city was no better. It slipped that iota further into decay, even despite their presence.

Hawke settled him, but there was little she could do for him. They had no time to be together. She was busy with her own issues - some family matter, or so he was led to believe. Not her family, he understood, but enough that stories were being told, and those stories were very quickly followed by rumours. He cared little for any of them, and after his Qunari investigated the site of the house in question his interest in it dropped entirely. It was yet another result of greed and selfishness, and it was an unwelcome plague to his mind.

Other rumours suggested she was starting a business, and that drew more of his attention than anything else… though it really didn't matter. By the time such a thing made it to his ears he was already suffering from his exhaustion at the impotence of the situation. He had only one way of exerting any kind of control beyond the limited confines of his compound, and it was by enacting something entirely beyond the scope of his role.

Arishok was not Ariqun. Arvaarad was not Hissrad, and Ashaad was not Tallis. The Antaam were not the Ben-Hassrath, but Arishok had no patience for such a trivial matter. His reach was overextended, just as his patience was, but there was change. It was small, and it was manageable, and day by day he saw some improvement no matter how small.

It was a matter he knew Rasaan would have advised against, but Rasaan was not here. No one was here. Just those that were forsaken, and who would not be returning to Par Vollen any time soon. They would do what they had to do, and that was the end of it.

"More of them, Arishok," Arvaarad stated as he stepped into the doorway. "They keep coming."

It wasn't the job of the Antaam to defend the Qun and the innocents. The Ben-Hassrath were the ones equipped to indoctrinate and spread the Qun. They were absent, and Kirkwall was only feeling the smallest of the influence of what the Qunari could bring. More was to come, but it was not enough.

"Arishok?" Arvaarad prompted, clearing his throat.

Arishok rose to his feet, shaking off his melancholy and his exhaustion.

"Good," he acknowledged, pacing aimlessly about the room. "The new converts? They're integrated?"

"Completely," the other Qunari confirmed.

"Good…" Arishok murmured, and he was silent for a long while before realizing that Arvaarad was still there. His eyes slowly crossed to regard him, and a long exhalation filled the room. "What do you need, Arvaarad?"

"There are some things that I think are beyond the scope of our presence here," Arvaarad explained carefully. "We are-"

"We are the Antaam," Arishok interrupted. "We are expected to interact with the world, not merely to observe. This is what is expected of us while we search for what was lost."

"We are in danger for overstepping our roles," Arvaarad warned.

"More converts to the Qun by the day," Arishok huffed. "We grow stronger, and one by one our enemies fall before us. Even here, confined and relegated and lost, we are strong, and we grow stronger."

"I am just ensuring that the priority lies with retrieving what was taken," Arvaarad insisted, "and not on growing the Qun where we should not."

"Every wretched bas that I extinguish is another possibility eliminated," Arishok countered. "It is only a matter of time before I am left with one of two possibilities. Either we find what was taken from us, or we are enabled to search further."

"And if we do not?"

"That is not a possibility that I will entertain," Arishok spat. It was final, and he spoke it as such. "I will not be left here. I will not suffer to be rendered unable to act."

"I do not mean to render you impotent, Arishok. I do not want you to do something that would violate the Qun's teachings. If we were suddenly taken down a path that was disagreeable then it may become my duty to ensure that the saarebas has not infiltrated your thoughts, and that a saar-asalabas has not replaced our Arishok."

"There is no saar-asalabas within this compound, Arvaarad," Arishok growled, "and there never will be."

"I am content to do new duties assigned to me, Arishok, but do not ask me to forsake the duties I am sworn and commanded to perform," Arvaarad asked. "I cannot turn a blind eye to something that would endanger the Qun."

"Hawke does not endanger us. She seems to be one of the few things fighting for us in this wretched city. No saar-asalabas would defend our people. They would be convincing their viscount to cull us. We do not give the saarebas enough freedom to act by their will."

"You seem to know a lot about the nature of the saarebas, Arishok," Arvaarad alerted, eyeing the other Qunari warily. "A lot of questions come to mind."

"I am required to know about all enemies we face, Arvaarad. Do not read into something without considering the whole text," Arishok frowned. His eyes flashed to the hallway, then back to Arvaarad. "It is not as simple as just stopping. If I do not release us from this insufferable prison then we shall surely perish, whether physically or culturally. I have the choice between our certain destruction, or the possibility of redemption for the Antaam. Which should I follow?"

"Which does the Qun demand, Arishok?" Arvaarad countered.

"The Qun demands that the innocents are protected, and that I alone bear the responsibility of retrieving what was taken," Arishok explained, clenching his fists. "This demand shall be met."

"And the costs for this adherence? The consequences?"

"They will also be met."

Arvaarad was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again he softened his tone.

"Redemption for the Antaam?"

"That is what I said," Arishok breathed. "The Antaam will bear no disgrace."

"And what of yourself?"

"That is a matter I alone must contend with," Arishok said with a shake of his head. "It is a moot point without the relic. Leave me to consider our next steps, Arvaarad, and just do as you are commanded by the Qun and by myself. My patience grows shorter by the day, but one way or another we shall retrieve what was lost. The Qun shall not be insulted, and the wrongs shall be corrected one way or another."


	25. Chapter 25

Hawke stared at the compound, ignoring the piercing stare that was levelled in her direction. The Qunari guarding the gate had not stopped watching her, but she didn't pay any attention to him. She was too busy focusing on wringing her hands in anticipation of marching in there with more bad news.

"At least the Arishok won't think that we're the incompetent ones," Varric offered in an attempt to lighten her spirits.

"It doesn't make me feel any better," Hawke admitted, pulling her hand down her face. "Every time the viscount wants me, he just gives me more bad news with the Qunari. I'm not his damned Qun-diplomat."

"They would call you Beresaad," Fenris offered, lifting his head as he entered the conversation, then dropping it again when he was met with silence.

"The viscount's diplomat," Hawke clarified with a roll of her eyes. "I'm not the Arishok's diplomat, either, but that's beside the point."

"It would be Bas-Beresaad, anyway," Fenris murmured, cracking his neck with a sigh.

"And what do they call dwarves?" Varric asked with cheeky grin on his face. "Bas-Tards?"

"That's what everyone calls dwarves," Aveline chimed in, trying to lift Hawke's mood. She squeezed her friend's shoulder, but Hawke didn't perk up too much. "Don't worry," the guard captain said in a reassuring, stern tone. "I'm already opening up investigations into my guards. If someone saw this happen and didn't report it-"

"I know, Aveline," Hawke sighed, bringing her hand up to rest on the cool, metal fingers at her shoulder. "I just wish someone else would tell the Arishok that more of his people are missing… and probably dead already."

"Well you two already have a… relationship," Varric pointed out, running his finger along Bianca's spine delicately. "Who else would you prefer to send? Daisy? His Highness the Choir Boy?"

"The pirate?" Aveline proposed with equal disdain.

"Blondie?" Varric added with a small chuckle.

"I could do it for you, Hawke," Fenris offered, glancing over at her. "I have no problem speaking with them."

"I appreciate the offer, but-"

"Hawke, you already have enough on your plate. Let me help you."

"I wouldn't want to put you in a position where you had to answer to the Arishok for me, Fenris," Hawke declined gently. "Varric is right. If anyone should be telling the Arishok anything, it should be me."

"It should be the viscount," Aveline corrected with a huff. "It astounds me how strong lineages erode into weak tyrants."

"It's the nature of power," Varric sighed. "It cannot be wielded by one person - even a great one - without it completely destroying them."

"I think that's enough philosophy," Hawke said quickly, pinching the bridge of her nose. She swayed forwards and onto her feet, using the momentum to carry her forwards into a march. She tried to press her concerns to the back of her mind, but they kept resurfacing with every step that led her before the Arishok.

He was practically surrounded at the time she arrived, and though the crowds parted it was clear that he was run to the point of exhaustion.

"What do you want, Hawke?" he asked with a frustrated sigh. "I have no interest in adding to my distractions."

For a moment she was flattered that she was still considered a distraction, but unfortunately it was dampened by the sharpness of his tone.

"And yet you sent a delegate to the viscount," she reminded him.

"A brief attempt to educate," he huffed in response, barely looking at her as he spoke. "If the dwarf had stolen the saar-qamek, it could have been used to show the price of greed."

Hawke was surprised that the Arishok was still fixated on that matter, but he continued speaking before she could say anything.

"But you know the outcome of that," he spat. "These fools are determined to be wrong. I won't waste the effort again."

Hawke nodded in understanding, but she soon realized that a silence had descended upon them and he was waiting to see why she was there. Varric cleared his throat loudly, and with some effort she managed to speak the words she had come to say.

"A courtesy, Arishok," she began, trying to delay the inevitable. She inhaled a deep breath, then passed it back out again over several seconds. "The delegate and his guards are missing."

She could only think back to the way things had been, and how such news had been received the last time. She had not forgotten Ketojan - the saarebas who had chosen to sacrifice himself rather than disgrace the Qun. She shifted in silence and braced herself for his response, and every second that he delayed only worsened the pit in her stomach.

"Anyone else, and those words would have been their last," Arishok exhaled in frustration. He sat for a moment, then leaned forwards to consider her carefully. "You are handling this? Not your buffoon of a viscount?"

"I am," she confirmed quickly, straightening her back sharply.

"Then I will wait," he determined, nodding slowly.

The great numbers of Qunari around him seemed to acknowledge this decision and they turned away, lowering their weapons. Hawke noted that they were glistening in the sunlight, marked with a strange metallic substance on their bodies. She had never seen it before, but she knew what kaddis looked like, and she knew what war paint was for.

"But know this," Arishok continued in a warning tone. "The provocations we have suffered has worked. If this is not resolved, I can fulfil my duty to the Qun with far less annoyance by sifting through rubble."

She had heard a similar tone in his voice before, when discussing the reason for his being stranded in Kirkwall in the first place. She didn't like the implications then, and she didn't like them now. It suggested a very exhausted, very dangerous military-minded individual, and it really troubled her that she didn't necessarily disagree with his attitude.

"As if there wasn't enough pressure," Aveline murmured dejectedly. Hawke felt the same way, but managed to refrain from saying anything. She continued to watch Arishok in the hopes that he might offer her something, but she knew as well as he did that their private time was destined to remain just that… despite the suppositions of her friends.

"Thank you, Hawke."

She wasn't expecting the words, and for a moment she thought she had imagined them, but a glance down at Varric's face suggested otherwise. He was similarly surprised, and Fenris was quick to lean over and give her a nudge.

"Don't just stand there," he urged beneath his breath.

"Panahedan, Arishok," Hawke answered, feeling the words roll off her tongue almost of their own accord. She didn't know what she was expecting from him, but the gentle dismissal of his hand was enough.

"Panahedan, Hawke," he returned, rising to his feet. Hawke lingered for a moment, but she detected the shuffling of feet at her back and reluctantly turned to follow the others. She knew she should probably be rather annoyed with the way he had treated her, but she couldn't feel her anger through the overwhelming sorrow for him. There was so much that he bore on his shoulders, and the last thing she needed to do was to pile on and make things worse for him.

It gave her a strange sense of purpose. A strength in knowing that she was helping him in what ways she could. That he trusted her, relied on her. After all, he'd even been as brazen as to leave the compound for her… and if she had her way, he would again.

"That went better than expected," Varric admitted once they were back in the street. "I was sure we were going to have some… problems."

"I have to admit, I had the same doubts," Aveline agreed.

"There's no time to delay. The Arishok is counting on us, and I for one and not going to let him down when he clearly trusts us," Hawke determined, gripping her staff tightly. "We'll find his delegate."

"I hope you're planning on finding a drink first," Varric admitted, expelling a deep breath. "I know I need one. I promised myself that since I didn't get anything in the form of liquid courage for going in there, I was going to celebrate."

"You know, you don't have to come with me everywhere I go," Hawke reminded him, heading up the steps slowly.

"And how would that look for my readers?" the dwarf asked with a sound of absolute horror. "Can you imagine? They get to the end of the chapter I title 'Bad News Bas: Disappearing Delegates, Deceit and Dirty Deeds', there's a great cliffhanger, the love story between the guard captain and her beloved is almost at its pinnacle, and they turn the page to 'I don't know what happened next, because I was drinking in the Hanged Man and I only found out a few days later'. It's not the dramatic flair I was hoping to achieve."

"The love story involving… who?" Aveline tested with a dangerous arch of her eyebrow.

"Relax, Aveline," Varric smiled sweetly. "It's a work of fiction. Any resemblance to anyone - living or dead - is purely coincidental."


	26. Chapter 26

Arishok strode back through the compound as soon as Hawke departed, his eyes alight with fire. The smell of vitaar clung to the air like a veil. Just the scent was enough to rile his blood, but now all that bloodlust was to result in nothing. A frustration not unlike that of seeing Hawke, and though his first inclination was to sweep her aside and take a moment for just the two of them, he knew that such an opportunity was not open to him.

"The delegate, Arishok," Arvaarad prompted.

"I know," Arishok shot back. "I was there."

"What is our response?"

The list of grievances was growing tall, and soon it would be a monument of insults that Arishok simply could not ignore. Hawke had delayed this one from spilling out into the streets this time, but she would not hold back the floor forever.

The thought met him with a moment of moroseness as he considered it. He knew what the Qun would demand of him, but he knew Hawke would be torn between the two worlds she was now a part of.

"Bring the viscount's son to me. We shall hear his thoughts on the matter."

"His opinion is biased."

'He is of the Qun. His opinion should reflect that, but he has knowledge of the city and his experience would be valuable."

"He is little more than a child, Arishok."

"If you can name one among my command who was not once little more than a child, then I shall forego his involvement," Arishok answered with a narrow look in Arvaarad's direction. "Find him, Arvaarad, and let us find out what he knows."

Avaarad lingered for just a second longer, then switched direction and disappeared down a flight of steps. Arishok had little further to go, pushing aside a heavy, tattered curtain and advancing into the command room. No shortage of concern met him as he entered, and the eyes of the occupants showed the distress they felt.

"This is not the first time, Arishok," Sten reminded him.

"It will not be the last, either," Karasten added with an audible exhalation. Arishok took a moment to look between the Qunari gathered in the room, then took a seat at the end of the table and ran his thumb across the length of his nose. The map of Kirkwall lay spread out before him, with details of almost every building within the city annotated upon it. It was not the best work the Qun was capable of, but in their current situation it was better than Arishok expected.

"You asked for me, Arishok?"

The viscount's son stepped in, followed closely by Arvaarad. They stepped into the line of Qunari against the wall, waiting patiently. Arishok took another breath, then pointed to the area designating Hightown and the Keep. Saemus' eyes quickly followed the hand, and he seemed to already have anticipated the question that was coming.

"Your delegate?"

"What happened to them?"

"I saw and spoke with them when they arrived this morning, and I was there when they departed. My father was on edge the entire time, but he is not the sort to do something like this. Abduction?"

"And yet my delegate is missing," Arishok pointed out.

"Perhaps the guards know something, then?" Saemus suggested hopefully. "Someone may have seen something."

"Seen something, but said nothing, it seems," Arishok sighed.

"The bas-saarebas' companion is a guard," Karasten noted.

"Captain of the guard," Saemus confirmed quickly. "If there was someone who-"

"Hawke was not responsible for their disappearance," Arishok informed them loudly. His eyes fixed on Saemus, then slowly looked throughout the rest of the room. He squeezed his eyes closed, then passed out another hot breath. "The guards are not aware of it, or the captain would know, and Hawke would know, and I would know."

"That does not guarantee the guards are not involved," Arvaarad corrected. "The captain does not command the same respect from her subordinates as the Arishok does from his warriors. The sickness of this city has seeped into their very skin."

"Arishok, it is not sickness. Kirkwall suffers from many factors that contribute to its state of decay. It-"

"The Qun would amend a great many of these shortcomings," Arishok interrupted loudly. Nods throughout the room seemed to confirm it. "It is a sickness. It stems from the lax attitude towards those who wield magic, and who are susceptible for demons. They pave the road to your destruction, and this city walks that road blindly."

"The mages aren't the ones to blame!" Saemus gasped, clenching his fists as he inhaled a sudden breath. "Arishok, the traits are present in everyone. Humans, elves, dwarves…"

"The viddathari are cleansed of such impurities through the Qun. They are not subject to this festering illness," Arishok pointed out. A silence held in the room for a moment, then Saemus tilted his head in acknowledgement.

"Of course, Arishok."

"The captain has no control over her soldiers," Karasten reiterated, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "The guards will not tell us anything that can be of use."

"Hawke will get more from the guards than we ever will," Arishok grumbled.

"The alternative is a criminal element," Arvaarad suggested. "Someone else."

"This happened in Hightown," Saemus argued. "The criminal presence there is small."

"Small?" Sten hummed in amusement. "The Chantry are the biggest criminals in this city, and they enjoy the most benefits of anyone in the city. They are the ones who have been our most vocal opponents."

"They have certainly been among them," Arishok agreed.

"But the Chantry does so much good in the city! They have helped so many refugees of the Blight in Ferelden, and all across Thedas!" Saemus pointed out in alarm. "How can they be responsible for this?"

"He has a point," suggested one of the viddithari across the room. Saemus looked in surprise, catching sight of the elf who had been concealed by the larger Qunari flanking her. "The Chantry has always been good to humans."

"Not just humans, they-"

"Exalted March."

There was a long silence, and Arishok looked between the two converts before clearing his throat loudly and drawing their attention to him.

"The atrocities enacted upon one group by the other does not factor into this meeting," he warned them. "There are no humans or elves in the Qun. We are Qunari. This discussion serves no purpose except to be divisive."

Saemus and the elf both acknowledged the command and fell silent, dropping their heads in respect.

"We should keep our eyes on the Chantry, then," Sten determined, anticipating Arishok's command. "We shall find out for ourselves whether or not we can trust the priests and their templars."

"Our eyes should be everywhere regardless," Arishok frowned. He was especially anxious to make sure that Hawke was not caught up in the mess that had been laid out before them, yet was sure that she was already knee-deep in trouble. She had the sort of personality that simply attracted that sort of response.

"I shall coordinate our warriors to ensure that nothing escapes our notice," Arvaarad offered immediately.

"Our people are already missing. The time for vigilance has passed and we are paying the price for it," Arishok alerted, pressing his fingers against the corner of his mouth in thought. "If they are not found, I will meet with the viscount personally and we will not have this misunderstanding again."


End file.
